lovely but lovelier now

I am most myself like this with all of you around me and a laugh in my mouth. How can anyone be happier than us in our wild viciousness. You are the people I like most; your sharp edges and my sharp edges hit without hurting, and being with you makes me feel the way a mountain must— immense and unshakable and unashamed. Some quiet days, I fear the avalanche of a life unsupported—the reckless fall, the shatter on landing, but most days I know we’re all grounded the same way, anchored by the weight of a collective promise, kept.

Oranges chocolate tea and coffee books library apps audiobooks face masks (thank you to 2016 me, thinking I was the kind of person who did “skincare”). Video calls mornings, bedsheets, blankets boyfriend, video games phone calls stamps and notecards face masks (the kind we all wear out now: mine are made of cloth napkins and hair elastics). Movie nights, screenshots phone-relayed laughter, laughter-relayed tears, text messages to say hello, miss you, can’t wait to see you again someday.

The red of the leaves is going to kill me. And if it doesn’t, then it’ll be the gold that does me in. This is dramatic and maybe a bit hyperbolic, but anyone who knows me knows I’m a little of both. The sky is blue like reflective lakewater and the leaves are bright with death, and I would lie under them when they fall to let them cover me like rose petals and grave dirt. The trees are stealing my breath and I can’t care because the sight of it all makes me feel as if I had a sun inside me.