(after Alex Dimitrov) Today, I woke up at seven thirty and made myself an oats smoothie with one tablespoon of oats, half an apple, three dates, some flaxseeds, and half a tablespoon of honey. I was wearing a white oversized t-shirt with my favorite purple shorts, and I listened to Noah Kahan once again— Oh! It’s raining here and I wanted some wine, but it’s only eight in the morning. I opened the windows, sat on a chair, and thought about you and your smell (damn, you smell like vanilla ice cream). I wanted to write you a poem about our first kiss last Friday. I don’t care what people think of us ; I care about being alive with you— Is this crazy? Maybe. Maybe not. You can call me the craziest woman you’ve ever known, but when I knot my fingers around yours, stars twinkle, metaphors are born, and love happens.