last night, fell asleep to the sound of the moon with my hair and eyes still wet and glistening from the beauty of summer. the fan spinning slowly above me, my whole body tingling from the midwest air.
in this critical state, i accidentally bought the books i wanted to read you lines from, because it’s the final way i have left to send you love letters.
(in Stranger Things, we learn that we will find every way possible to communicate across voids, even if it involves stringing up hundreds of Christmas lights in the living room.)
today, Rebecca Perry puts it just right: