For Mag 308:

Dear Future Me,
I wanted to tell you
that whatever happens tonight-
on the corner of L and Ninth;
you will survive.

That this too, this sense
Of worry wrapping itself
like a wreath around your windpipe
will pass, whether lost
in the exhilaration of assent;
or obliterated in the loud clang
of a cataclysmic bang.

That this sense of free fall,
of uncertainty gnawing at your insides
will give way to the clarity of certitude;
that the restful stillness of truth
will triumph over the ambivalence
of baseless hope.

That one day you will return,
To this space, this place
of quiet contemplation –
To begin again,
for better, or for worse.