You, an orphaned four-year-old boy
Me, alone in a family.
I didn’t have the means to keep you
But now, I see that you never asked.
You needed to push your head out
the window
And let the risk animate
your fine, baby hair.
hi.
This site is ever a work in progress. It is being built with accumulated gestures. I place them here, in this space between us, so that we might surprise ourselves, so that we might know our connection.