What Comes After...

Julianne Estur

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1. It turns out that the world can save itself, thank you very much.

 

2. I stand with my bare feet to the earth, in awe of all that’s still here. I am a part of it.

 

3. I hope you know that we’re okay. By that, I mean I’ve been feeling less poetic about you. Is that all right? (It doesn’t mean I love you any less. It’s just that lately, I’ve been thinking that life is too short to not say exactly what you mean sometimes.)

 

4. I tell the sun I’m sad but I’m trying not to be. It doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t have to. All it needs to do is to be there. This is it, I think. This is the love that saves.

 

5. Sometimes I believe I’ll be able, one day, to accept that I’m the type of person who thinks about every single thing that’s ever happened to me. 

 

6. We are not the last people alive. 

 

7. Are there people out there you give your laughter to for free? Do they give you theirs? Is your stomach so full with love that you feel you might burst—do you resist the urge to because there are people you must stay for? 

 

8. What is home to you now, other than a place I could not be? It’s okay, I promise. I’m a lousy home but a decent dancer. That must count for something.

 

9. I talk to the moon the way I used to talk to you: that is to say, I tell it everything. It must know me better than anyone else. It must know you best too. I’m glad for it. Someone should. 

 

10. My heart feels so light that I’m afraid it might float away and give a piece of itself to everyone it meets. I’m learning that it is a good heart. 

 

11. I open every window. The sunlight rushes in, fast and eager, like it’s been waiting for me its entire life.

 

12. There’s a thought that crosses my mind sometimes. It's quiet the same way the Big Bang is:

 

13. I have so much beautiful time.