Love Letter # 3


Some loves are too big.  Some loves are older than years.  Some loves require silence and withholding and speaking in one lifetime.  Some loves are ever-expanding.  Some loves are the big bang, the Milky Way, and the northern lights.  Some loves are white noise.  Some loves are the low hum beneath the chatter.  Some loves are the tangling of legs and arms.  Some loves are the shaky hand.  Some loves tiptoe.  Some loves are tightropes and tents.

Some loves are just too big.  All we can do is sit back, watch the sun descend, and burn into memory the painted sky.



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