And then I opened my eyes and it was just Grace and me - nothing anywhere but Grace and me - she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me, holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands.

You look like a puppy. Like I'm jingling my keys and you're jumping by the door waiting for your walk" "Woof.

I walk through the seasons and always the birds are singing and screaming and keening for love When you're with me it seems so absurd that I should be jealous of the jay and the dove.

She couldn't make it untrue.

Right now, it's hard to imagine that it is raining anywhere in the world.

As I handed her the bag, the old scars on my wrist throbbed with buried memories.

I had risked everything, and I had nothing to show for it but my open hand, lying empty and palm up toward the ceiling.