I thought I was done loving lost boys but every time you come soaring into my waiting window with your pointy hat and pixie dust, I find that it doesn’t take too much energy to conjure happy thoughts when you are always ready to make me fly. On mornings when I wake up to find you spent and sprawled on my bedroom floor, know that I will take your shadow, the darkest parts of you that you keep trying to get rid of, and remind you that I will always be here to sew whatever it was you lost back on.
Marla Miniano (in case you come back)

















