When I heard you’d suffered your third stroke I sat up searching for pictures of you but instead of you I found, in every picture, someone with long hair, a weed smoker, black hoodie with snakes on it and black sunglasses, someone sitting outside on a spring morning painting her dogs’ toenails, someone drinking coffee with honey, a huge glass of milk with her steak.
In a truck stop bathroom mirror shaking her head ‘no’ for ‘fuck yes,’ I don’t know if she reinforced me or I her, as I’m probably not supposed to.
AngelfromMontgomery et al. 
Love this.