it isn’t your birthday.
no, today doesn’t mark any important date,
but even so,
I want you to know how grateful I am for what we have.
there’s an understanding that runs thicker than the blood we share—
memories that bind us together.
when Gran gave away her silk nightgowns,
it felt like goodbye,
so I left the yellow garage lights and walked off, overwhelmed, to cry in the sweet-smelling blackness of Kentucky night.
later, you told me you knew I was crying,
but that I did a good job of hiding it.
it’s little things like that that make us who we are.
so thank you,