I am imagining
wind and fervor, and too often the beach
your hands touching this page in my hands now.
is clogged with tourists, but perhaps one
the haze, and it is warm under a quick breeze.
I will face an overwhelming amount of class work between
walking down to Main Street, to
hyperventilate. I read it and reread it and read it again.
We should go swimming together. Maybe
Thanksgiving weekend, makes me nervous and melancholy.
horns at night sometimes.) In little
walks, and counting the
(I thought about your holding it in your hands.)
can giggle and play Marco Polo, and attempt
days until summer.
to kiss underwater. Lie in the langourous
now and when classes end.
inquire as to the status of the applications I
I don’t remember
I am nervous and exhausted, but not unhappy. If I let myself be
sunshine whilst we dry.
I miss you. I’m unsure what to say in this letter.
turned in last week. I have been praying
what I said in my
unhappy today, I don’t know if I would be able to stop. I am thinking about
Lately I’ve been dreaming in nightmares,
You say you are happy – you sounded happy – the last
that the children’s book shop will give me
last letter, so I
the train ride across the Rockies, only a month away. I am thinking
though I don’t know why. It’s morning, 9:15,
am probably repeating
about how green the trees are, how green the grass. I am imagining
and remnants of them still drift through me,
what you look like now, envisioning the sound of your voice.
phantom-like. I can’t tell whether they are
I hope you’re well.
I want to imagine you
tainting my words or not. I hope you’re getting happy Thank you for calling last night. And through the end I want to be happy, too. happy birthday, dear, once again. time we talked on the phone, and I was glad, and I work – it’s the loveliest children’s book of the semester alright. (We ought to be happy, girls like us.) (I am in awe of you.) hope you still are, or are again.
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