i read a list i wrote
three, or four
years
ago
and i lost my breath
and i felt my head
spin and blur along the melodic notes of the greatest symphony I’ve ever heard.
the list it seems
made a mark of sorts
from all my dreaming
from all my wanting
from all the everything i could ever choose.
and so,
it’s
you.
writer, traveller, adventurer, dreamer, lover.
