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Love Letters After All
Why can't I stop writing these stupid things.
Did I ever tell you about the time a healer told me to write love letters to myself and every time I tried I wrote to you instead? Do you know who you are? You are me! I know how crazy this is going to sound but I do not see the difference between you and me. And so I find it literally actually physically neurologically cognitively epistemologically factually impossible to believe you cannot look at me the way I look at you. You’d be less cruel if you did. You would look at me and say:
Damn. Wow. What did I do to deserve you and all of this magic. Look at all the hard work you did. I am paying attention I am. How could I not. My regard on your skin. Your heart in my hands. Our whole bodies inside our whole mouths.
I people-proofed my face this week by going for a look Maori calls “Art Ho.” I’ve divested from Big Eyebrow Industrial Complex and with all pun intended, am leaning in to asymmetry. Wow I didn’t know I didn’t know how to spell asymmetry.
I’m going to make completely inspired music this week. I hope you find it agreeable. Did I say inspired I may have meant insipid.
Festivities are their own cruelty. Joy happens in an intersection and parties are crashing people not the other way around. I want to hold you only and only then can you have it all.