Reading “to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it,and everything you’ve held dearcrumbles like burnt paper in your hands,your throat filled with the silt of it.When grief sits with you, its tropical heatthickening the air, heavy as watermore fit for gills than lungs;when grief weights you like your own fleshonly more of it, an obesity of…

I believe in all that has never yet been spoken.I want to free what waits within meso that what no one has dared to wish formay for once spring clearwithout my contriving.If this is arrogant, God, forgive me,but this is what I need to say.May what I do flow from me like a river,no forcing and no holding back,the way it is…