I don’t know your name

But I do know that it was beautiful to your mother and that the first time she said it, and decided it was yours, she smiled. I know she said it several times after that, like the words to a beautiful song only she knew. She tried it on like a beautiful summer day.
I do not know what you do for money, but I do know that sometimes, whatever it is, it’s difficult. I do not know whether you are rich or poor, but I do know that regardless of how much money you have in the bank or how big your house is, numbers have never stopped the world from intruding on happiness.
And sometimes, things are hard.

* * * *

I know that, once, someone touched your hand and you did not want them to pull their hand away, but they did and this made you sad. And for this reason, I also know that sometimes you smile even when there’s nothing to smile about.
I know that the grass grew while you were sleeping. I know that somewhere on the other side of the world, the sun shone on people you will never meet.
I know that at least once, if not several times, someone you knew woke up in the middle of the night thinking of you and wondering what became of you.
And they’ve contemplated calling you out of the blue.

* * * *

I know you have a tiny scar on your body that only you know about, that only you see now.
I know you remember how you got it.
I know your body will be cold, after you die and that right now, while you’re reading this, is the only time I can guarantee it will be warm.
I know that the sun will rise every single day until it doesn’t, until there’s no more reason to.
I know that time itself holds you tight.
I know that you get ink on your fingers and don’t know when it’ll come off.
I know strangers can stain your heart
in the same way.