I read them in your voice, your words that arrive with a buzz and a PING!
Sometimes the intimacy of your voice in my head is as startling as it is comfortable
It is as though you have known me long enough to befriend the others who knew me long ago, but now live only in my memory
It is as if they have told you which wounds to avoid, which need tending, and which are healed enough to massage and stretch to break up the scar tissue
How else would you know how to set free the laughter that is too often guarded by protocol and worry?
How else would you know how to loose the tears?
How else would you know the right moment to call me by my name – or even my whole name – to pull me back to my Self?
From another house. Another city. Another state.
Your words arrive
Your friendship invades my house. My heart.