By Ellen Bass to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water
Magnificent. More like this. But nothing is quite like this.
thank you.
You have your finger on the pulse.
I need this. Thanks.
I am walking along the river sobbing...... thank you