29 pieces

I been out walking after midnight different this year than a year ago when I thought that you had been awakened by bad dreams and missing me. Oh, it is your birthday and I am prone to exaltations of and sporadic onamonopeia. I have spent a year searching for your heart. Thinking it is somewhere out there. There’s a song in it. When all along it is in your chest. I like being near your chest. I like sending you secret messages. I like the thought that with you I could have the life I always have imagined. I like that you are broken but growing, repairing. I think you will be great. You are great. The greatest predictor of the future is the past. Your ability to still see me this year, to still believe in me, and you, in some strange way… that is my 29th piece of you. You are so much better, more sound, more perfect, more beautiful, more everything than you know, or should know. Maybe you will one day.