When you were in prison I wrote you letters. And when I sent them they got sent back. You were already out by the time they arrived. That is a good thing, I think.
They said you were 30 miles from the border when they found you. When you got there would you have crossed it? For me the border is a thing from the movies and political debates. My friend Steve says he’d like to take a blank globe and redraw all the maps. He’d just put borders where they seem to make sense, topographically speaking. That’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.
I was pretty sure the letters wouldn’t reach you. Maybe I don’t have enough faith in the post office, but it just didn’t seem possible for some pieces of paper to cross that massive span — the distance between us. You were in the southwest and I was in the northeast. You were in the hot sun and I was in the snow. You were in outer space on that planet, the one where the people we love go to when they are lost. Did the earth look like a blank globe from out there?
It is a nice piece of writing. *smile*