While looking through old notebooks tonight I found something I wrote last year, or rather something I was trying to write for my mother. It's indulgent of me to post this on here, but with only a few days from my trip I figured she should know, incase I haven't told her lately, that I love her.

Perfume

I miss you,

I busy myself with

menial chores

Stare at books with bleary eyes

get restless then spray

your perfume on my wrists and

clothes