Expatriette in...

that night, it rained moments of my life till i was drenched in details and the mattress became a life raft. there was as much below my heavy head as up above. what is ours floated to the surface and into thin air. sentiments about daylight and the fact that manhattan, too, was once just a forest where flowers bloomed in the darkness rang true and loud in my ear- it woke me up from my rented sleep in this rented home. i stayed up to wonder about the injustice of city gardens and to imagine us as teenagers by roman fountains. i thought about how i loved how we explain the world to each other; i loved how we laughed and how we loved, over and ever again. but i know the pictures we took were already outliving us. i imagined them in a hundred years in stowed boxes overflowing like a faucet & our memories pouring out into the hands of our city kin.