I ask for signs. I go out. I'm walking and listening to the Smiths through my pink headphones and I encounter a woman listening to music through her pink headphones. Her hair is the exact color that waits on my bathroom shelf. She raises a hand of acknowledgement to me and I raise a hand of acknowledgement to her. She smells like patchouli and suddenly I am ageless, beautiful. I look down:
and then a white butterfly swirls in front of me and then another and they fly with me like that, all the way home.