Discover more from The Last Hundred Miles
September 3rd, 1976
By now I should have learned so well the nature of change. Do we ever? Time, like a gentle surf lapping away at circumstance, continues to change the structure of my heart these days.
When you are most sure that your heart has died– when days howl empty and naked around you– that is the state just before dawn, birth. When, after months of lovelessness, your hand is touched and something deep deep inside clutches, and wordlessly you whisper: this is him. He is the one.