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Hilary J.'s avatar

Thank you Andie. Love that poem at the end. It made me think of Love after Love, the book by Ingrid Persaud (maybe recommended here? It's brilliant), and the poem she took her title from, by Derek Walcott:

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine. Give bread, Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

JBM78's avatar

thank you. You always remind me how weird humans are, and in doing so, make me feel more and less weird at the same time. maybe just welcome in the weirdness, so not afield, not wrong. ps- upending my work-life, probably today, after a 3 year cycle, so this letter’s opening struck me

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