“We were together. I forget the rest.”
I’ve been gone a long time. So let’s not pretend I haven’t, but let’s also glide past it, ok? Because I want to share this with you. It’s by one of my favorite artists, Lily Stockman, who is fast becoming not just that, but also a favorite writer and pause-giver.
Marriage is a distinct thing that one cannot see but it occupies space in the universe like an Idea or a Soul.
Which is to say:
It’s in the eggs you replace in the refridgerator
Like the child whose shoes you tie, whose tears you kiss and relish the salt
And when you pass each other in the living room and brush shoulders
The frisson of energy you feel is the Space you could almost pass your hand through,
and in which you glimpse the Future.
Thank you Lily.
Thank you, You. You occupy me, and as you do, you expand my