That familiar, tight feeling wells up in my throat. Don’t cry, don’t cry, I think.
But I can’t help but cry for someone that I didn’t even know. Through her writing, I got to see her creative, beautiful, and unique heart. She will always be loved, and she will never be forgotten.
The Third Chair gets heard: no trumpet has ever sang as loudly and brilliantly as this poem does.
I didn’t know you Jesi, but I’ll miss you.