i realized last night and again this evening that i should have put this sumatran song on your mix tape. and i walked home on the brick part of the sidewalk on cumberland, the part where, late at night as i make tight fists and walk briskly, i imagine who might be lying in those black black shadows there. could be passed right out, or waiting in the lurch. what if i ran from him, i think, kicked his face, ah, with the satisfaction of self-reliance, and it turned out he was the last victim, waiting for a kind soul? but anyway, i walked there (it wasn't dark yet, and i didn't worry over the shadows this particular time) and imagined your walk, in your boots, that dress you wore the other night.

it's like i've been appreciating your idiosyncracies (i've misspelled this word, sorry) for twenty five years. i know, you haven't been alive quite that long, and i've only known you for one or two. but whoah, you're great.