Other Peoples Words. In the order i think them.

I have

All the sins of love, without the detail,

detail without the love.

The regret of having spoken,

Of having run out of time to speak.

Of hoarding oneself,

Of turning ones back too often in favour of sleep.

I want To want to slip free the knot and float, suspended in the present.

To become irrevocably unmoored, to feel love pure and unconceived.

What does the body make us believe?

That we're never ourselves until we contain two souls.

Truth grows slowly in us. Like a musician who plays a piece

again and again until suddenly he hears it for the first time.