I’m changing. Becoming someone you wish me to be; a stranger, beneath a foreign sky, peering through cloud-scattered light in a white linen dress, with ink-stained lips wanting always — too much — all at once.
Within me I exile my own nostalgia, evolving in my fertile mind, warm yet terrified, true in femininity, honest in my innocence, as I learn the details of who I am becoming.
In a forest of prose I sit and rest my head next to your side, expressing to you my agonies in jumbled notions of words.
Then, starting again, wanting and wanting I drive myself to more, and it feels so right when I do.
Say yes to your dreams.
With much love,