i. I once knew a girl who wore jeans with ripped holes not a cape, but scraped knees she didn’t believe in smoke signals, instead wrote in the margins of the paper but each time I wanted to drown, she taught me how to swim.
ii. She slouched when she walked and had mousy brown hair without pearly white teeth or a figure 8 but when she smiled, my God, was she beautiful.
iii. My mother always told me that when I grow up, I could be whatever I wanted. When I told her I wanted to be Wonderwoman, she laughed and said, “someone is already Wonderwoman,” I didn’t know that someone was you.
iv. The next time someone pulls your hair or calls you names, remember that there’s only one you who knows how to save my world.
Dedicated to my own special Wonderwoman. J'ai écrit pour vous, mon bonbon.