in my mind ioanna, i have this vision of you. we’re driving somewhere and i glance over my shoulder. i see you, your head leaning against the window watching the world go by. shadows made by a sun cutting through leaves dances across your face. you are silent. and this is how i picture you, an immense internal world locked within you: unknowable, impenetrable, and all yours. i wish i had the keys to unlock it, to climb in and sit with you as we watch the world go by. when i say i wish i was a child again so that we could be friends, i am not kidding. i’ve squandered much of my life and i wish i could make a list of the things you need to be careful of, what possibly your genetic structure will be prone to. but that’s impossible. i cannot live for you, let alone live through you. i can only watch and hope to understand the solace you find yourself in. i can desperately hope it is nothing like my own.