Hey
Hey.
It’s me, Aoife. We’ve met before, I don’t quite remember where.
I hope you’re keeping well.
You look tired, oh wait, that’s me.
Sometimes I forget we’re separate, you and I. We’ve travelled many roads together and people often confuse us as one.
A poem, a song, a book, a half eaten apple; things we create together and watch through the same eyes.
I could monetise a bootlace and a spoon, you are stubbornly ethereal and unworried.
I make rules, you break them.
I fret about the stack of unsold magazines, you just laugh.
And so we dance, my little soul, in a effervescent trail of chaos and luck.
You have led me to make decisions no one else would. We have said no to the kindest of men and the harshest of jobs. We have walked countless miles guided only by your insane notions. We have fought wolves with a smile and a knowing that no good story ever came from living by the book.
Me being me, I’ve tried to calculate your whims; if Soul follows her pattern, we should expect a complete rebirth …
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