I like writing me. I’m seeing her now
captured in the words letters on the
screen. She intuitively knows what
is real, what matters and what will
last- in the rhythm of the sentences
that never really end. I especially
like it when she is at her best,
It is when she doesn’t care
what others think. If others see
Its when she writes it just for me.
Just for the sake of that writing
is such a beautiful thing.
Such a valuable thing. It’s like
she’s wrapping gifts for people
she doesn’t know yet. For people,
she doesn’t even know if she’ll
meet. for people who will get
to see the one thing she is so good
at being in one place and everywhere
The truth will set you free they say
I guess that means. That it doesn’t
trap you in facts. But allows for
everything true to be. to be more
To exist more. To be more true
again and again and again.
I think she does that. And I’m
just sitting here, allowing
her to tell me stories that help me
see- the same thing anew,
Anew, anew, every day.