Dear You,

A quickly setting sun flickers through the passenger side window. It’s a calm yet albeit brief reprieve from a tangling fear in the pit of my stomach at the inability to direct arrival or departure. The rising was equally as calm but without need to face the reality of not being in control.

Upon arriving home the equilibrious quality of your presence surfaced from memory. For all practical bearings weighed, it was your impractical philosophy of being I’ve long admired. Whenever you must carry concealed suffering, please reflect on the confidence of night to greet the calm of day.

Love,
Me