When We Think of Love
What we think, when we think of love: the night out of which young women are plucked; our own nights of solitude; loss, interminable, or its possibility, fuel for the precautions taken; fermentation, yeast loving sugar, dough rising under the floured sheet; the sea loving the shore furiously, wave after percussive wave; whole colonies of plankton loved by gray whales; the trees outside this house love autumn so much they shake with pleasure when it returns; ice loving water until it dissolves completely, like flesh into the earth. What they’ll find centuries hence: the graves, or their...
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