Inklings 2023

Once, we sat on the beach and you told me how you came into all of this with an hourglass in mind; my mind started to wander, wonder how time can fall through your hands and leave you breath- less; the waves exploded onto the sand / you called it nature & in my head I knew it was a sign. Once, I thought about telling you that everytime I see two of something I call it love. Don’t you know how I gather little pieces of everyone I’ve ever met like they’re charms on a keychain or trinkets from bubblegum dispensers? Don’t you know I remember everything & it’s all intentional & if I could be less aware I would; I can try to twist these words into someone else’s truth but they have always been mine you know it! you know it! I know you — know I’ve spent months hunting through old conversations, finding seas of resentment and stumbling to a stop at the front edge of the water. I used to search for you in the undulating waves & now I’m okay just looking at my own reflection. Once, I tried to tell you that you could evolve into as many different forms as you wanted, as many different times as you needed & (whether you believed it or not) the more you started listening to you, the more the trees would sway when you wanted them to, the more the birds would sing for you, the more the world would — listen — I just wanted to say that you’re allowed to leave parts of yourself in every city and pretend they’re seeds that’ll grow into something bigger than yourself. I was just trying to say that you could be infinite if you wanted to, but once again you failed to listen. ONCE AGAIN Lucia Rose Dahn ’23 22