The Closest Thing
She Will Not Be Quiet: A (mostly unedited) daily writing practice
The Closest Thing
It turns out that home has always been here hammered inside these very bones, pulsing through each beat, each blink, each breath— so close, the word close doesn't even come close. It turns out I only needed to float inside my own skin, whisper I love you to every wave of war, every wave of wonder, to stay for long enough to meet what has never been anywhere else, the breeze of my own breath whispering me back and back and back.
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Six-point-seven stars out of a possible five. Wave of wonder, wave of war. Beat, blink, breath. All the stellar luminations I can possibly bestow. Life is in these lines for those who need a lifeline. As a dewdrop of light in a world of nightmare, your words land most restoratively. Blessings, cherished friend.