The silence of darkness.
The silence of sleep.
The silence of my mind racing.
When the sky above me turns to milky opaqueness dotted with specks of light, I stretch my arm out to line my fingers up with the constellations. They play around my hand with silver lined clouds in tail. They are air and water and tiny droplets of starlight.
Each little droplet could contain a million animals or a million people or a million cities. They are a million seconds apart from each other and a lifetime away from me.
I can close my hand, dig my fingers into my palm and grab a handful of those dancing drops and pull them into me.
Absorb those animals and people and cities and all the love they share between them. An innumerable amount of love. A million different kinds.
Love for the morning, love for cold soup, love for ripped sweaters, love for worms that dry up on the sidewalk, love for books with cracked spines, love for walking through the snow, love for cigarette smoke, love for sadness, love for paper cuts, love for forgetting a word, love for dead people, love for alive people, love for you and for me.
Love for us, individually and together.
