the cracks in my bones set butterflies free.
lovely words enchant my soul, I'm a slave to poetry.
We are the pioneers
of our own histories, drawn
to the horizon as if we waited just for us
the way the young are drawn
to the future, the old to the past.
Linda Pastan, from “Driving West” (via
The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.