I wrote to you when I thought spare and clean could help restore a measure recognizable to one who cares. Invisible ink and tears blowing up snot in certain circles to redbrick flour lining my steps and Daddy reeled because he knew. I wrote and millers mud cake tainted boots, booked me on hot flights from that hell. I wrote on crossed knee, engines swirling sciatically inferior, but I knew. Dr. Angelou I licked greens in the forest, four years before I knew your light crackled creeks to swell heightening degrees.
Go. Do not miss anyone else.