tonight my mind is traffic-jammed with thoughts and i'm not much for words, but i have learned to let others' musings suffice when mine do not. here is rilke's take on things, circa 1914:
again and again, even though we know love's landscape
and the little churchyard with its lamenting names
and the terrible reticent gorge into which the others
end: again and again the two of us go out together
under the ancient trees, lay ourselves down again and again
among the flowers, facing opposite the sky.
i'll be back soon, blog world. promise.