From France, sometime.
Tell me about love and how it creeps up on you and when you just have to say it because they are talking about lions or a stupid song or eating all the cake (actually that is always me).
Tell me about love and how it is always the same and always different and tell me about that face they make when you talk at dinner where they are in awe of you because the love is too big and you are too wonderful.
Tell me about the times when they make you so mad that you think they are stupid and you want them to leave and you want them to go and you want them to come back because you don't want them to go.
Tell me about the song that makes you cry and makes you smile and tell me about that movie that you never watch anymore and that person you don't talk to or about because they remind you of the other person you don't talk to. And you were walking to the supermarket and thinking about many years ago and how you are one year older and a million miles away. And it was cold and that was good because no one should cry in hot weather.
Tell me about distance and whether it makes the heart grow fonder or weaker or a mix of the two and you get nervous like a first date about seeing someone again. Tell me if love makes you a grown up or a child or better or worse.
Tell me if breaking things is something to avoid or admire. Hearts, taboos, habits, minds.
Tell me about happiness and whether it is as profound as unhappiness.
Tell me something I don't know about the places you went and the people you saw and the people you loved and the people you lost. Did you lose the places too?
Tell me about the rivers in France, the ones you see from the train, with trees growing right out of them and twisting over the mirror surfaces. Think about what it means that they are hiding and falling and growing at the same time.
Tell me about love and how it creeps up on you and when you just have to say it because they are talking about lions or a stupid song or eating all the cake (actually that is always me).
Tell me about love and how it is always the same and always different and tell me about that face they make when you talk at dinner where they are in awe of you because the love is too big and you are too wonderful.
Tell me about the times when they make you so mad that you think they are stupid and you want them to leave and you want them to go and you want them to come back because you don't want them to go.
Tell me about the song that makes you cry and makes you smile and tell me about that movie that you never watch anymore and that person you don't talk to or about because they remind you of the other person you don't talk to. And you were walking to the supermarket and thinking about many years ago and how you are one year older and a million miles away. And it was cold and that was good because no one should cry in hot weather.
Tell me about distance and whether it makes the heart grow fonder or weaker or a mix of the two and you get nervous like a first date about seeing someone again. Tell me if love makes you a grown up or a child or better or worse.
Tell me if breaking things is something to avoid or admire. Hearts, taboos, habits, minds.
Tell me about happiness and whether it is as profound as unhappiness.
Tell me something I don't know about the places you went and the people you saw and the people you loved and the people you lost. Did you lose the places too?
Tell me about the rivers in France, the ones you see from the train, with trees growing right out of them and twisting over the mirror surfaces. Think about what it means that they are hiding and falling and growing at the same time.
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