Aurelio,
Maya Angelou spoke to me. I went back and forth through her poetry with blue and black ink, scribbling thoughts in the margins. Between those lines, I found the inspiration to be unapologetically myself, and I wanted to share that with you.
These days, I call two people weekly. My Mom first, her always first, then you. Lately I’ve had bad timing with your calls, but I always take the small risk of a voicemail. Have you ever heard of ‘The Telephone’? Not being sarcastic, it’s a poem. Angelou wrote about the ring that never comes, and the thought depresses me. Here is a woman who sits in quiet expectation that someday it will, from morning to dying light, but it never does. I don’t want that to happen to you. Even if you’re busy, even if the world is wearing you down and there’s just no time, I want you to know someone is thinking about you. And when you do answer, it means everything to me. Last Saturday, I heard your voice again and I smiled. You told me about the little thing…
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