BELOVED,
you collect me. I’m not petals, although I’ve eaten wildflowers on greens in that glow explicit to the different planet, as Miłosz described it, that is California, the place I walked by way of salt and fog and located Mary enshrined in chalk on a gash of rock and watched the waves devour themselves ’til my telephone died, in order that I used to be pressured to depend on the generosity of strangers, and I did take a photograph later of stated plate, marveling whereas sending it to you from the aloneness I’d traveled there to make one thing out of. Please ship a photograph of your face. Is it not my function to see the place, precisely, laughter has rivered across the eyes I like? There was a donkey in Petaluma with a delicate, regular gaze. I cannot flip away from the ache of this world. I’m attempting to really feel my toes. Let’s cry sufficient to submerge, as much as our ankles at the least. Don’t preserve your grief from me.
Supply hyperlink
