The morning of my final prelim (which I am hopelessly unprepared for) and here I am, smiling at the pictures I took at the greenhouses some weeks ago, pretending that Econ 102 doesn't exist.
I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would have to cross / to reach you. For I am in love with you / and this is what it is like or what it is like in words.
Carol Ann Duffy
When I grow up, I'd like to be a cream puff. A cream puff with apricots, or even a plain one. Lukewarm at the bakery. In the window.