Airplane Love Letter

If my plane crashed or disappeared into clouds the way they sometimes do, this would be gone along with me.

How Mothers Are Beautiful

I remember being picked up by her and smelling that mysterious, adult perfume coming from her skin and thinking that when I grew up, I was going to be just like that.

Circles

I would always pace with the baby when he was a baby; he’s seven now. I would sing “Moonshadow” and “Dream a Little Dream” softly, lulling him to sleep, and we would walk slow circles around their kitchen.