Jun 25
My first friend was built like a willow tree. When you’re little, love really knocks you out. We said what kids say when you move. That we’d write. That we wouldn’t forget. That, every night, we’d look up at that one weird winky star and make a wish. Nothing is as lonely as childhood, and the person to finally interrupt that ache is a big miracle. The silhoette of someone small and familiar running down your street—sweaty and hopeful that you can come out to play.
- Long Division [Instructions for Traveling West poems by Joy Sullivan] ///// Monster 怪物 [Hirokazu Koreeda]
