3:33

Forgive me please for the voyeurist in me. I spy something celestial. I spy the stars that have somehow beguiled the years we’ve spent apart. I am a cloud of espionage and I am not afraid to let it all out. (For instance) I remember one night, you telling me, how you sometimes have a hard time eating in front of people. (I remember thinking how impossible it must be for anyone to notice) (You are a monument built on grace) Ten minutes later you were stretching out your limbs, filling up buckets with words, and chewing food with your mouth open.