I wish I could write you a story as big as the promise that mothers give their children. The sweet lies we whisper in the deep, dark night. Everything will be OK and just close your eyes. Hush now. I wish I could tell you words under a band of Ohio stars that would be a canopy for us and our bodies would stretch like yawns inside of cars that speed out towards the end of the year. Tell me you want this. Tell me I can open my mouth and start talking.