"I am. I am. I
sometimes forget that I am.
I always have been."
"I will wade out till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers. I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air, alive, with closed eyes."
"Has it ever struck you that life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going?"
"Picture this:
you’re standing at the
tongue-tip edge of
wherever you are,
whatever this is,
and from here
you can almost see
everything.
Lovers waking up
next to each other,
a child discovering art
with her hands,
a lonely park bench finding
company in a weathered man,
the sun whispering
light through windows.
Picture this:
you’re standing at the
edge of the shore
with every wave crashing at your feet,
with every breath in your lungs
exhaling you alive,
and you look around,
and isn’t it beautiful?
My God,
it’s beautiful."
"If I love you

is that a fact or a weapon?"
"I started writing
because I wanted to be with you
without being
with you."
"It’s always right now."