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Poem for my friends.
words by Willa Cosinuke

Chapter One: Outfits

In some ways outfits are so predictable. Acting like a
chain linked reaction, always similar but morphing and
evolving over time. To me they seem to define our
existence day to day. What we decide to wear follows a
personalized code, a set of rules, that depicts our moods,
our morals, our bodies, the way we move, what we see in
the world around us, what we love, the way we think,
each other.
Outfits also seem to act like a traveling house.
Architecturally put together, layered and lived in. We
create a familiar and appealing space around us. Feng
shui. We decorate and furnish our bodies. But we are all
part of the same neighborhood.

Chapter Two: Cambridge at Night

Cambridge at night is like the inside of an anthill. Dark silhouettes crawling through predetermined, over traveled, routes. And chewing away at new ones. We see people we know, and people we don’t know. We are all from the same hill.

Chapter Three: The Woods

When we chill in the woods we are like the trees except shorter.

Chapter Four: The Highway

I hate driving alone. When I drive alone, the music
sounds stationary. As I drive I get separated from the
sounds and the space I’m moving through. I concentrate
on the destination.
When I drive with a dj, I feel like the music is moving
with us. It feels like it guides our movement through
time and space and accelerates with our speed. We
preoccupied by the vibrations of the car, the noises, the
voices, the speed, the lights and the frost on the window.
We forget about the destination.

Chapter Five: “Like Smoke”

“I hung around.”
We hang around smoke. Smoke hangs around us. It
Follows us in jars in our socks in backpacks in the hood
of our jackets in between the stitches of our wool.
When smoke hangs around my hair I love to hold it up to
my nose and smell it. Its familiar, like a campfire.

Chapter Six: Night Lights

When I think about you guys I see your faces in the dark
lit up yellow, by streetlights.

Chapter Seven: I Love You

I’m in love with the way you wear purple eye shadow
with no mascara, I’m in love with the way you speak, I
love how you looked as a baby, I wish I knew you as a
baby. I’m in love with kissing your eyelids, I’m in love
with your home, I’m in love with the way you draw. I’m
in love with the woods by your house, I’m in love with
your shirt buttoned to the very top button and your
socks showing, I’m in love with
...

...
what you tell me about
the world, I’m in love with you when you dance, I’m in
love with your high-tops, I want to keep them. I’m in
love with how you look in your all white room, I’m in
love with how it sounds when you laugh your hardest,
I’m in love with the way you squint, I’m in love with the
way you look in scarves, I’m in love with the way you
move your fingers, I’m in love with the way you smell.