Dear 2015,

Photo via Ruth Shilling

I snake myself around you these last hours together,

Incense like sweet potato biscuits tickling my nostrils

Cozy by fire and

Breathing in your knowing comfort

Virile, enchanted, endless

Shoulda, woulda, coulda’s lick around logs to embers

Smooth base and moonlight, you whisper

It is done. It is done. It is done.

Rest now my little dreamer

But with a child’s wishfulness, I beg for a glimpse of future bounty

Or a tale of wonder before sleep, and

Your confetti laughter circles me

A crook of mystery inside empty echoes of secrets you keep

You tease or

I am too hungry for tidy endings and ease

Lip poked out, I recall twisting in the wind for a few months before

crawling through pockmarked valleys cast beneath peaks of victory

and no one noticed

You point to the flowers I plucked

Rumbles of laughter

Yours, mine

Deep magic ripples the air

A silky kiss on my forehead, and you say again

It is done. It is done. It is done.

And I murmur sleepily

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Love,

Nailah