Our love isn't a sweeping declaration of eternal love,
or a promise to disappear into a life of never-ending sacrifice.
It’s presence.
It’s our willingness to sink deep into our valleys and walk together in our shadows,
to show up for each other’s brightness and remain us:
the sun to my moon,
the pine to my sycamore.
Links to work I've published in Barista Magazine, Willamette Week, Portland Mercury, and more.
they say for women we forget some of our deepest pain and that must be true because it feels like i have amnesia when it comes to you...
i'd crawl underneath your skin, nestle in the space underneath your collarbone or snugly between your ribs watching your heart beat...
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