Something like freedom. Something like that's pretty strong for a tea cup ain't it? That guy, wait what was that guys name with the car seat? Did you roll off of that bus when you were sleeping that night? Where did Alice in Wonderland take you? And who will you see before and after you open those eyes? Age or what you did with those years, all those years you were awake verses all those years you were dead. I see your faces in all these videos and we know exactly where you are right here in our moving bodies made up of all the things that is us because of you. Cut your hair and change that face before you step off that next hard grey bird. I HEAR YOU SINGING. I always hear you singing. Something like freedom.

Like that time we puzzled piece'd ourselves together on that couch that was so small (your head on my stomach, you stayed up all night). Or when I woke up and it was the morning and the first thing I felt was your hand clearing my face of fallen hair that overwhelms me in my sleep (afraid I would suffocate?). They tend to kiss me on my forehead while they think I'm sleeping. You weren't listening to a single word I said (I hope you weren't). I was drunk. And I didn't know what was going to come into being next, falling from my lips, coming together like sparks from that big bang. It didn't matter (matter). I smoked cigarettes in your car while you looked at me like I was insane or beautiful(?) Or beautifully insane. And you. I remember you. Opening my eyes, yours hanging six inches away, looking over a sleeping animal (it was really very peaceful), and I thought that was exactly what being in love was.

I remember their eyes.