mother—there is so much that goes on here without you. yesterday, i wake to press out what is left of the year into flour & water. being in this world makes me feel like a time traveler. sometimes the universe aligns perfectly & i try to find comfort in small things: the kindness of donkeys & windows. isn’t it okay to write the night is filled with every flight & fall at once? & how everything alive becomes a landscape. give me a plum tree. memory is overrated.