There are no events but thoughts & the heart's hard turning,
the heart's slow learning where to love and whom.
Annie Dillard
it's like falling in love, the mystery & namelessness, the quick familiarity & shy-footed trust.
To be loved, beloved. How every step I make is toward her. How the earth hurls forward, at last light and into blue. The gold in her eyes, and breath, and song.
