My mom just found something i wrote in 1991 as i stepped out of college and into the work force:
“Dear Life,
I have come from a place where the bats flew in the air
and the flowers grew from the center of the wooden tables.
I come from a place lit by candles and echoing the clamor
of angels’ wings.
Now, I am supposed to dress in hosiery and answer telephones for money?
I will not surrender my life for this.”
