I often wonder if you are trying to tell me something about yourself or how you’d like me to be. As an artist I thrive on the quandary of interpretation. As a mere human, I think more often than not, I choke on it.
I am leaving for New York a week earlier than planned.
A 16 hour drive may do me some good. It’s probably not going to help me through this in between time. It’s definitely not going to help me shake your reach, because I carry you on the inside. But, I am going to go and live and be loved by my city.
I was very much looking forward to going on walks with you in my ear and revisiting some old bookstore floors. The floors I sprawled on and fell into muse with you. The island internal and full of hope. My voice mouthing the words home.