Clouds are fluffy trampoline-like pillows. Trees only grow when it’s dark outside. Our toys talk to each other in our absence. I will never stop growing. Very soon, we will all be able to fly. Time isn’t measured. Not by the seconds, or days, or coffee spoons. If you sit very very still, you can
I. You once told me you judged songs based on whether they’d be nice to die to or not. You smiled after you told me that, and I thought about how you were like magnolias—dangerous but irresistible. Mozart’s Lacrimosa tops my list. II. I love it when you wear your gray cardigan/blazer hybrid thingy. III.