Raise your hand if you went through an awkward Emily Dickenson LOVE phase when you were a teenager.
Yeah. Me, too.
I think it was probably the summer of 2001. I checked out all of her poetry books from the library and lay in the driveway (strange but true!) reading and memorising them.
(I don’t remember why it was important to me to memorise them. I think I just liked memorising things. Actually, let’s be honest: I still like memorising things.)