A week from now, the sea will
bend itself back, pulling at the
edges of continents and islands,
tugging them together again with
the slow patient touch of a long-
loved grandfather. Yesterday, I
dreamt about the long journey
it would take to shorten this
distance; in a snowy terminal,
flanked by snaking briar trees
naked for the winter, I could
see you, lugging up one
suitcase after another onto
a sleeping, humming bus;
I could see the slow burn
of relocation, how each
little gesture is but
a larger step of moving on;
I can see the rear view of
the bus as that white world
is left behind – oh how the
bus will turn onto the
interstate, and how
the planes will take
off forever and ever.
I am imagining small conversation,
a bustling airport, and you
sitting in a cafe thinking
about home, and maybe
when you are done
with your morning tea
in the well of the teacup
I’d be there in the dregs
as though a vision, a sign.

slowly tugging them
together again.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.