Something About The Way Your Lips Moved When They Called Out My Name. Dew Drops From Heaven Placed On

“I loved you before I was born. It doesn’t make sense, I know. I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see. And I’ve lived longing for your every look ever since. That longing entered time as this body. And the longing grew as this body waxed. And the longing grows as this body wanes. That longing will outlive this body. I loved you before I was born. It makes no sense, I know. Long before eternity, I caught a glimpse of your neck and shoulders, your ankles and toes. And I’ve been lonely for you from that instant. That loneliness appeared on earth as this body. And my share of time has been nothing but your name outrunning my ever saying it clearly. Your face fleeing my ever kissing it firmly once on the mouth. In longing, I am most myself, rapt, my lamp mortal, my light hidden and singing. I give you my blank heart. Please write on it what you wish.”

— Li-Young Lee, from The Undressing: Poems; “I loved you before I was born”

I just needed one person, for once to mean what they say. Just one person.

Mary Karr, in “Facing Altars: Poetry and Prayer”

Wrapped me like a lullaby

i knew what i wrote was real when it scared me to write it

I write because I am wretched, because I must make moan to someone or something. I write because I shall soon be dead. These lines will be the cold remains of my soul and thoughts and love, as my body will be the corpse of my warm flesh and blood. I write to declare my faith, to obtain pardon of my sins, to weep, because my tears strangle me and will put an end to me.

Juliette Drouet, from a letter to Victor Hugo, written on 1834

Constantly pulled between what we've been taught, what we know and what we feel.