independent work | laura
There are no events but thoughts & the heart's hard turning,
the heart's slow learning where to love and whom.
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.
Carry me, carry me, carry me.