We celebrated birthdays in the kitchen and gave back pats of congrats at the coffee station on landing a gig or hugs of support while passing each other in the hallway when a gig fell through.

I took a beating when you wrote me those letters / And every time I remembered the taste of your lip gloss

I would find by the edge of that water / The collar-bone of a hare / Worn thin by the lapping of water, / And pierce it through with a gimlet and stare …

In order to destroy evil, we must first acknowledge its existence.