Dear me,

I hope this letter finds you kind, I hope it finds you at ease,
I hope it finds you as you were born.. a soft spring breeze.

I am writing this letter to inform you that you still have space to unfold, that you are a continuum that doesn’t have to settle for the broken uni-verse where you were unraveled.

You, love, are not limited to your synonyms.

You can develop into a sandstorm speaking the names of the Saharas to your left and to your right.
a sandstorm that does not blind the sufi midnight traveler.
a sandstorm that travels beyond the desert.
a sandstorm carrying a water-well for the thirsty.

You can develop into an ocean that doesn’t stand in arrogance where there is land.
an ocean that waxes and wanes to the rhythm of the moonlight caressing you.
an ocean that doesn’t erode the rocks standing on its shore.

You can develop into a soft spring breeze that makes a home of all the other seasons.
a soft spring breeze that gently ****** through a baobab tree trunk.
a soft spring breeze that playfully tickles the arms of a nesma on her university bus writing this.

Kindly find attached to this letter the love your father has tucked in bed a long time ago and never double checked on it.
Kindly find attached to this letter the understanding your mother stored in the kitchen cabinet she is too short to reach.
Kindly find attached to this letter the forgiveness you have tried to grow out of sunflowers seed every winter.

Always sincerely,

Forever yours.