when did it hit me? yesterday? like rain over the wire? or was it a thousand years ago, when we were like little stars on the horizon?
i knew, how was it i knew, but i knew.
we watch these paths, where they go, how they shall intersect. tis real, you told me. that it is, my love.
sometimes i watch you whistling to yourself as you pick me up out of my million pieces of doubt, right off the table like i was free. you write of struggle and darkness yet i see grace. sweetness.
i saw a woman. i see her now. she was painted, anonymous, twenty dollars in the back of an old house. i see the one who danced, remembering her life, bangs cut short, how she is so different now.
you didn’t know her, the fool i was at that age. nor i you. we had years of preparation, of seasoning, to move through. i thank them, him, death and movement for bringing me to you.
sudden souls and it is not something other than magic. i’ll hold you dear (always have) (always will).
versions there are of all of them but when i close my eyes they are disappeared, and open and they are gone. you are the thought i keep as morning rises, the penny in my pocket, the reminder of truth.
this day, tomorrow , like any other (even though it is like no other), i am grateful for you in this world. i see you on this september morning, and shall gaze upon you in october as well. (it’s just a day, yet i am still in celebration).
the world ain’t never seen the likes of us, baby. i’ve awoken to find you, already there, reading to me.
(happy birthday, professor)
Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place. ~Zora Neale Hurston