he keeps calling calling and we keep talking and i walk through the backyard paths, tracing steps and finding footprints of younger halves playing in the daffodils, seeing memories recreated in swirls of gardenia's and third grade art on the fridge. he wants to know all about my day, and it's good. old voices and moving on and feeling good about where everything is with distance. tonight has been full of jumbled words and saying not one word and hearing him tell me i'm something else. i came home and started listening to good music and. it's been a long day, and exhausting and i probably just need sleep. but now the words are round and clean and warm, and things are feeling okay. the room smells like vanilla and bread rising and i am breathing out the thoughts stuck in my throat, the breeze is strong and the notes from the songs are dancing in the corners. i hope you get lots of sleep and love and apple juice and that you feel okay. that's my hope that i'm sending off with a kiss and a red balloon in a blue sky under a yellow sun.

i have no memory of writing this... oh blacking out.


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