Dearest Clarissa

You would have been 24 today,

and in all likelihood we probably 
would have drifted apart, two kayaks 
in the rapid white waters of this world.

You would have been 24 today, 
and maybe we would have laughed 
about our lives and the decisions
we made at night underneath the sheets.

You would have been 24 today, 
and I would have called you Mayumi 
through a not so smart cellular device while 
you sang that one sweet song of yours. 

You would have been 24 today,
and I should have made sure that you
always knew how much you were treasured.
(Ironically) it kills me that you felt so alone. 

But you would have been 24 today,
And I would have bought you flowers, 
the kind that bloom ever so slowly, 
just to see your beautiful smile. 

Sundays are for Good News and Goodbyes

Long weekends and even longer conversations

Stretch like our shadows when the sun is at our backs.
There is a false sense of timelessness, as if this was
The way it was, the way it is, and the way it will be.
But Sunday mornings have been crooned about before,
and there's a ticket and a city and a commitment. 
I am less of a host and more of a symbiont, where
neither one of us are dependent but the mutualism is clear. 
While the adventures and the experiences are novel,
it never ceases to astound me how that 100 watt smile
can be so remarkably infectious and addicting. 
It is the winks from across the table, the long "O"
formed by your mouth when you postulate, 
the gap between your teeth and the moments nestled
softly in between the gaps of exploring the world around us.
I do not know where this road leads to but I am
finding myself getting lost in the forks and the turns.
So I will take the risk and extend myself into the abyss
because I think the ambiguity and confusion is worth navigating. 
... And I have never been too afraid of leaping from cliffs.