April, 2017

coming home

I remember her eyes. And the way that we connected. I don’t remember her name. I don’t know if I even asked. I don’t remember if we spoke. But I remember this: the feeling of home. It was 2008. I didn’t know a soul and there I was, in the first ritual. The drums called us to the circle, bodies moved around the fire. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I took a breath. No turning back now. On the car ride to the camp, I asked a lot of questions of the driver who I’d just met that […]