“I write them with tears on cheeks, or with fingers through hair. I will write them on the backs of burning eyelids when the tears are spent. I will write them on the insides of my cheek with clenched teeth and swallow the blood down and taste the words that paper can not handle. Paper folds, and sometimes it isn’t worthy of the weight of your blood and tears.”
I danced with my heart to a song my soul really felt today. By the time the music had stopped I had found piece of myself I’d been missing. Afterwards, I stood in the silence with my hand over my heart and felt it beating in a rhythm that spoke so strongly of gratitude that when I heard a voice respond saying “you’re welcome”, it took a long moment to realize it was my own voice.
A woman is a river. A man can wash himself in her, stand back, and see a new version of himself. Calm waters offer the clearest reflection, but moving waters, they wash the dirt off better. -H.S.