The thing about love is that we come alive in bodies not our own.
With all respects to heaven, I like it here.
So much of her time spent like this: dreaming up things to say and never quite saying them.
I grew up sort of middle class, safe and suburban.
We stumble on, thinks Jaslyn, bring a little noise into the silence, find in others the ongoing of ourselves. It is almost enough.
The point of flight. To get rid of oneself. That was reason enough to fly.