And the Message Said

I got a very old text message today.

I remember when it was sent many yesterdays past.

It dropped down from the top of my screen in a little box, 

but I didn’t tap it in time, and it slipped away.

The message smelled like chlorine from a hotel pool that I swam in once, 

and that I’ll never see again,

and it looked like a messy room full of silly secrets 

and FaceTime calls with people 

whose final image in my head was taken from a U-Haul van,

and the message said come play with me,

and the message said he’s not my friend,

and the message said what if we get in trouble?

and the message said I don’t say this a lot, but

and the message said we’re not little anymore, but

and the message said someday we can be little again,

and the message said I love you.