letter to a lover

austin, i miss you so much. i miss you in the summertime and i miss you in the wintertime. i came across a picture of you today and i wanted to be there with you celebrating christmas on 37th street. i miss the exact coldness of the air in wintertime and how everything smells faintly of smoke. i miss the lake. i miss how quiet and hopeful the streetlights look at 2 in the morning. one could really carve out an existence in you, or maybe it was you that grew around me while i dug in deeper. i feel that everything i was birthed and died there, and now that i'm set free--so what?

per my life-altering experience last week i have not been able to stop spinning it's blitz. i always think that, in the yeah yeah yeahs narrative, fever to tell is the battle cry, show your bones is the aftermath, and it's blitz is the resurrection, an icy, elegant coming into being.