I know you’ve been wishing on
eyelashes, 11:11, train tracks and
anything else you can get your hand on.
But the midnight stars accidentally told me
you’ve been asking the sky what it means
to live. And the river murky with clay and
your favorite color told a friend of mine that
you’re sending out messages in bottles and
skipping stones with the intent to summon
something akin to divine inspiration. I’m glad
you’re believing in magic again, or maybe this
is the first time for you and it’s again for me,
either way, I’m glad. I hope you get the answers
you’re looking for and if not - I hope you remember
you can call me any time. It’s rare I won’t pick up.
-Sincerely,
BlueJay
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