Dear Reader,
I wanna talk about timelines.
Imagine:
Meeting
in a diner and overhearing
Mark Twain say again
in passing.
Integration and reckonings as catalysts.
To greet someone, we must first open the door.
To sweep up the pieces of our infinite selves,
we gotta get the broom first.
On this day of big love,
let's consider where our love begins
in tandem with where we allow our love to fall.
It's as though I am turning a corner,
a kitchen timer clicks as single frames
of a time---lapse pass.
Listening to Joni Mitchell.
Weaving from the den of our Wolf Mother.
It's not dramatic. It's physics.
From one side of the door,
