Remember me softly. If we ever meet again, I’ll be a different phase of the moon. Etched in the clouds and swept away in the sky. An expansiveness that reminds us how far we come. A dream of who we use to be. Pressed so firm. We grasped between the moments of breathlessness. A growing restlessness. The madness of just trying to make it through. We’d never thought we would live to see the day. 2021 rolling through.