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Love Notes from One Girl to Another by Xiomara Jean-Louis

Xiomara Jean-Louis

I.


The feeling, of

Growing up seaside, and leaving…

to return years later, enchanted and calmed by

The sound of the waves and

The sight of the pearlescent waters;


Of beholding mountains from

Airborne flights to unfamiliar scents

And memories, after living a life on flatlands;


Of harvesting fruit, home-grown from a “brown thumb”;


Of returning home anew after a great surgery, and

Resting in your own bed;


Of viewing unadulterated stars for the first time;


Of losing a lifelong pet;


Of realizing you are loved

By those around you;


In profundity, veracity, and singularity,

These feelings cannot compare to, each day,

Returning home to you.


II.


Mine is a grotesque, turgid body

Forsaken and hidden beneath unwieldly shrouds

To provide evaporating comfort and teetering confidence.

It is akin to burnt toast: desirable to an ill-advised few.


And yet, yours,

So sublime and rarely self-challenged,

Comparable to the sound of rain musically striking on a windowsill,

So kindly, lithely, tutors mine to appraise

Itself with the same reverence.

Perhaps, I, too, can feel at home.


Oh, how wonderful it is to be loved.


III.


“If a tree falls in a forest

And no on is around to hear it,

Does it make a sound?”


The insects whose generations nestled between

The hardy grooves of bark will see the sky twirl

And hear the air around them writhe

As the tree falls, and they will grieve.


The birds who blessed our ears and the skies

With their songs of family, love, and food

Will see their nests collapse with the branches

Upon hitting the forest floor, and they will grieve.


The leaves upon whom the tree mutually depended

Will lose their ability to shift with the seasons;

to dazzle themselves and others with their flexibility;

to nuzzle the neck of the winds who visit once an hour;

and they will grieve.


As we will grieve if you were to fall.

You’re as brave and spectacular as an old-growth

Reaching for God’s hand, please

Allow Him and us the pleasure of watching you grow

Just a little more.


Otherwise, we will grieve more than you expect.



Xiomara Jean-Louis (she/her) is a Caribbean-American, first-generation graduate student studying Caribbean colonial histories. She orients her career around giving back: she volunteers, writes about U.S. policy toward Haiti to instigate change, and advocates for queer rights. In her spare time, Xiomara writes about her mental health and queer experiences. 


Instagram: @xianevis_



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