Life, lattes, and you
We were late bloomers but old souls,
Fresh-faced naïve things.
Constantly philosophizing.
Trying to find the answers
To questions we were too young to ask,
But knew too well.
We were soul mates,
Destined to meet,
Each other’s person,
before we even knew what that was.
We were excited for the journey ahead,
Uncertain where it would lead,
yet certain we would be side by side.
We planned for it that way.
in life,
in love,
and all that fell in between.
I remember a time when all that mattered was you,
us,
and our friendship.
I remember when a day without your face,
your voice,
would be unimaginable.
Inside jokes,
reading each other's thoughts,
whole lives lived in our daydreams.
I sit in the café where we sat,
when we were swallowed by our books,
and fuelled on lattes.
Years have passed.
Now I’m sitting here alone.
Thinking of you.
Thinking of what is the same,
and all that has changed.
Writing you this letter.
I feel far,
and reminiscent.
the spoken word
I conceive these pieces with the beat of my heart,
then birth them with the fire of my voice.
i am ayla
born in the east, raised in the west
daughter of two academics, both artists
masters in human rights, committed to social justice
love affair with travel, art, and food
speaks four languages, laughs in all