In truth I was manufacturing a brick wall of shits.

What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through a little speaker. [...] I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time.

We shared the smile of recognizing ourselves in each other, how many imposters do I have? Do we all make the same mistakes, or has one of us gotten it right, or even just a bit less wrong, am I the imposter?

She was so beautiful, like someone who you will never meet, but always dream of meeting, like someone who is too good for you.

She laughed enough to migrate an entire flock of birds. That was how she said yes

We believed in our grandmother’s cooking more fervently than we believed in God.

She saw through the shell of me into the center of me