I Think Sometimes As An Adult, You

He Was In My Hair, My Eyes, My Fingers, My Heart. I Day-dreamed About What He Was Doing, Thinking, Seeing, Smelling, Feeling. I Could Not Eat For Thoughts Of Him.

My Love For Him Had Never Gone Away But Only Changed, Growing Deeper Like Wine Fermenting Or Pickles Curing. It Bore Into Me With The Pervasiveness Of Water Working Its Way To The Center Of A Mountain.

Gone Were My Girlish Ideas About Romantic Love And My Later Ideas About Sexual Love. From Yi, I Learned To Appreciate Deep-heart Love. Peony In Love

May And I Are Sisters. We'll Always Fight, But We'll Always Make Up As Well. That's What Sisters Do: We Argue, We Point Out Each Other's Frailties, Mistakes, And Bad Judgment, We Flash The Insecurities We've Had Since Childhood, And Then We Come Back Together. Until The Next Time.

When You Don’t Have Much, Having Less Isn’t So Bad.