I wish you were alive right now so I could tell you that I finally figured out why that last loaf of banana bread I brought you collapsed in the middle. And that baking banana bread will always make me think of you. And that I wish you were still here, for reasons both including and not including baked goods.
I hope you’re happy where you are.
I shake the night rains loose from sapling oaks
to catch the water on my face. The smooth
trunks cools my palms. Beneath the morning’s
clear, amazing corals, magnolia
blossoms do their slow unscrolling. Touch,
however light, would scar, and so I keep
myself from handling petals I know would
feel something like my lover’s skin:
[her] inner wrists, the hollow of [her] throat.
Marisa de los Santos,
opening lines to “First Light,” in From the Bones Out
(University of South Carolina Press, 2000)