20 July 2017
Melbourne Tullamarine Domestic Airport
You are hazy as an afterthought; always have been.
But my skin burns in your presence, and that tells me you are very real. But also, finite.
Sometimes, I run a bath to remember you by. Water seems to help. It is almost as if it is a portal to my subconscious— there, where I’m probably a whole lot braver in making room for you in my life.
Often, I rake through every part of me that remembers you, struggling to make sense of the magic your being you holds over my head.
Always, I fall short in digging deep enough to find all the right, big words. So I scramble to hang on to the littlest of things to honour your memory.
For example: that you are blueberry cheesecake at the back of my throat.
Little Infinities is a collection of short musings borne out of huge emotions. In many of my travels, these are the kinds of stories I seek and live for, unlearn and let go.