I thought that those whispered words were enough,
that we could always eat blueberries at sunset
and our stories would sustain us.
you found me and lost me in moments
in between secrets and the alarm clock in the morning
maybe it was just not the right definition of perfect.
Today I smiled because of the cold air and because there is no reason not to smile. The snow still falls and everything still happens just like it should. I am still in love with the details of life and the grand plans of the universe and the way that a silk dress moves. I am this beautiful creation of power and movement and smallness and infinite everything (and so are all of you). My hands will hold children someday, my eyes will let down tears in the most heartbreaking way when I hear the right kind of music, my legs will carry me to distant lands, my mind will learn and teach, and my heart…oh, my heart will love and love and love (just like it always has).
I will and I am and there is something to be said for the silent moments at 3 am, something to be dreamt in the ways that right now holds meaning even if the stories are still being written, bound in books with glossy gold letters and the paper smell that good books are required by law to retain.