A love letter

Deep freezer

not for our secrets , not for dead bodies

But for our love

we stack haphazardly all the food one MIGHT NEED

Your neck strains digging through the ice,and you find faint scribbled handwriting on an ice cream container

We know, it’s never actually ice cream

Who knows why we are constantly stocked up for an apocalypse

Is it because our ancestral trauma has made us fear famine?

Is it because we don’t know how to show love without copious amounts of clarified butter?

in the deep freezer we live, we breathe,

And sometimes we will find exactly what we need

Comfort but never ice cream.

— faatimah

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