U(')s

 

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i.

DEAR YOU,


i wonder if you still remember me.

it’s funny how daydreams work: i haven’t seen you

for half our lives, and there isn’t really a face i can put you to.

only this:

you turning, calling my name

me turning, calling your name

both questions

answered with our smile.

it’ll never happen, of course;

i won’t recognize you.

you won’t remember me.

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v.

RE: DEAR YOU,


it’s always strange to meet

someone you haven’t seen in years.

but there’s something magical about

knowing immediately who they are.


and this was a good time, i think:

i figured out how to explore the city without dragging

unwilling souls all over,

i’ve learned to distance myself enough and know

that everyone has their own life to continue,

even on pause. and anyway, i see more now than

well,

then, so i think this went well. maybe i’ll see you again.

i’m not good at keeping touch, who have

i kept as friends after all those years? forgive me;

see you around

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vi.

DEAR YOU,


i would have written a very different letter, if this was

3 years ago. oh, but

what a complicated friendship we have/had. i was too dependent on you, but

then again, you were too inclined to fly

so far. are you where you want to be now?


you aren’t the same person you were (i guess no one is), but

i’ll miss all the rainbows, wii sports, scraped knees, the songs we changed.

in-between childhood and teenage memories.


maybe i’ll always regret that i didn’t know you as well as i should have.

but to the person i knew:

thank you for the adventures.


P.S. but i haven’t talked

to you in months. it was music that brought me back, like always:

 

so many golden hours, ice cream and bookstores and

all those funny little shops and the gold linings painting everyone between sunset

and twilight. this is almost my golden age.


this will always be an unfinished letter. i don’t

know how to finish it,

we don’t know in real life when we’re supposed to lift our pen,

there isn’t a Sincerely, Me yet and

here’s to all the good times. an ending that isn’t the end.

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~

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