I don't want to tell them,
I want everyone to know
that you and I are meeting by a river in the world
sometime in June.
It'll be a stream in the woods on the side of a road
to a village long burnt down, never fully grown.
We'll sit on rocks and flick the water,
because that's what we came to do.
And the voices of the people who know we're somewhere
are so far, they release grasp of our necks.
Even when they overlap in a pile
on top of a city smaller than freckle on your nose.
everytime I finish writing a poem, I go to your page, and there seems to be similarities between our poems, it's like a converstation, I dig it. I say it all the time, but I mean it, your writing is AMAZING, Ilana. I think after this year, you should print out everything you have a make a little book. I'd buy it in a heartbeat.
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