Sunday, August 5


To you,

After typing then revising then backspacing through entire sentences and paragraphs -- needless curlicues, you'd chastise -- I will go straight to the point: it pains me so much that I cannot share in this anxiety, that it is not a load we can divide, that it is at once a fear and anger that I can only understand through you. I hope you know that in this tiny way I share it, if only in the ardent desire to partake in it, to rid your life of anything that can power those restless feet toward a direction I would rather not imagine. For sure this is impossible, but even as I picture you, walking, alone, to a distance beyond what I can see, there is nothing more I would like to do than take those quivering fingers, give them a little squeeze, then lace them with mine, like a homecoming.