a letter of gratitude.
you whooped my ass in scrabble last week. (“you may go to duke but you aren’t that smart.”)
fa -- that was the word.
(i still don’t think it’s a word)
you sing to me in latin, and i still don’t understand it
but i don’t stop you. i like to hear you sing.
i like how you sit just to look outside the window in the kitchen. sometimes i join you - sometimes i let you be. i like to think when i look out my window at duke, we’re kind of doing that together.
that’s what i say now when i take pictures. thanks for teaching me that. and not to take anything too serious i guess.
and my mother wonders where i get my mouth from.
you taught me to appreciate a good, hard alcohol. i don’t think i’ll ever appreciate beefeater gin quite like you do, but then again i don’t think anyone ever could.
i suppose i’d like to end this letter by giving thanks.
thank you for whooping my ass in scrabble
thank you for teaching me how to sing out loud
thank you for teaching how to appreciate being a wallflower
thank you for teaching me how to be playful
thank you for being unapologetically human.
Art by Natalia Mesa