dear

is it true what they say? that there are oases in the desert? and mirages?

i wonder if you would recognize me now, as i crush garlic with a wooden pestle and seed lemons with my teeth. or when i break chocolate into a pan of hot milk and mix it with watered down espresso. or when i lean over my terrace into the sunlight and find a dead pigeon below.

i'm convinced that my hair has stopped growing. do you remember when i'd ask you everyday if it'd grown longer? i wanted to be like eve.

do you remember the night we met when you told me that indeed heaven is on earth? and it confirmed all my fears that life is really happening, and that i'm not, in fact, dreaming.

my life has two parts. before you and after you. when glaciers split in two, the formed fracture is called a crevasse. and at the bottom of that crevasse is where we first met.