to be your friend is to feel like I’m perennially on the inside of a delicious secret. we traffic in knowing glances, hands held, laughter moored to hilarious somethings and sometimes very little; somehow the source never seems to matter. people say ‘what’s going on between you two?’ and the answer is ‘nothing.’ or maybe everything. who knows? It’s an essence, and it’s ours. ⠀
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you brim with soulful sensitivity and an appreciation for small pleasures, my partner in losing it when the beat drops – in that weird warehouse, on a strip of palm-punctured sand, astride some leonard or another – or before a well-stocked erewhon bev case.
