free write after being asked for feedback

...i’m struggling with what reaches me and what doesn’t and how one set of images paired with a certain set of line breaks sends a chill through my fingers and with another set I’m struggling, fighting my left brain to just receive, to let it happen.

i suppose I’m out of practice.

and yet.
poems in my pockets and up my sleeves and how very silly it seems to still be writing about you and us
about how once, we took two ferries just to see where we’d end up
after spending the morning scrambling eggs and pushing the French press into the sand and sunburning our backs but being totally unaware because we cooled off in the atlantic and about how this never, ever, seems to be just a memory to me.

catching myself off guard and out of breath, my favorite things
it’s midnight and here I am, remembering how this works,
this is not just a voiceover....