Reflections on literature, writing, and the writing life
Saturday, February 25, 2017
You treat love like a rare earth element infinitely precious, Incredibly valuable, in so many ways powerful, and rare, to be dolloped out in micro- and nanograms, to be used only here and there to coordinate functions and link however temporarily things that are apart.
What will it take to convince you that love is like the atmosphere– infinitely precious and in the universe–rare enough. But oh my
it’s everywhere–in and on and around all living things It is our home and our life and without it–a barren rock is all there’d be.
Just try to hoard the atmosphere, stuff it in a bag, dollop it out in nanograms
it goes where it goes and it stays there despite all you can do to drive it out.