Sometimes I think I have lost my tongue.
But it isn’t that.
I have journeyed so deep into unknown territory, so far out into the world and the real, where everything is strange and wonderful, quick and momentous; I don’t know the words to cup these ways in yet. I don’t know the arc and tell. I haven’t got the rhythm of it yet.
But I will.
Every day I lean into the song of it. I taste and savor, hum and suck and spit. I will learn to tell this.
In the meantime, I wanted to say: I remember you. You are the breath that softens my solitude, the laugh that escapes the throat. You starlight the vast. I am glad of you there. Even in my not-telling, I am glad of you. I wanted you to know.