This is an ode to all the poems I’ve come across that reminded me of you. The ones that I’ve carefully saved to share on a rainy day, or when we bid farewell And I can finally be vulnerable. A section of my wall filled with those reminders and I guess I’m giving myself the privilege of love although all of reality calls against it. There are no consolations to be done here. I have found something magical in the air that I cannot grasp. A beautiful flower that I did not pluck. And I let it live its natural course. And when it leaves, I hope it creates space for something new.