if i ever were to make my house of love there would be a very few to live in it. all i would do all day would be to see them moving on their steps, in and out of the rooms... reading the newspaper, speaking on the telephone,staring at the window. and i..i would wind up in one corner...with all the love in the world. the love that i have for them and the gentleness with which they love me. sometimes i would get gooseflesh thinking that they all are right before me, with their hearts beating steadily, their organs working well... that they are so perfect in flesh and blood that it all seems indestructible.
We all know of love and ourselves the way we know of the moon or the bomb or a rotten egg..

1 comment:

little boxes said...

this is such a warm post...
you write so friggin well!