I dream of a home with a mango tree. Where there is patience and several different types of teas. I dream of a place that sustains. A place where giving is receiving and waves of gratitude wash over our pain. I dream of morning windows letting in another chance. Of tender hands softening rough edges with gentleness, and laughter painting the walls with dance. I dream of a hiding place where we find each other. Where our silent eyes meet and for once are able to say, you know me. You know me.
