September 22, 2007
We offered up beauty with two broken hands; the gathered best slipped, trembled from stiff fingers. And every “I love you”, became “I cannot explain”, how far we’ve wandered, and where we have changed. Still we reached, as far as we could fail; in the hope something made it through. Some word or consolation, to show that we were there, that the less we became, the more we tried to care.