Distractions.
"You don't remember in the morning as you kiss his closed eyes, watch them open, say how wonderful it is to watch somebody's eyes open, to be the first thing that they see. He says, Your mouth, Love, it's like a moth. A great soft moth thrumming against a windowpane in the house that I grew up in. But you swallow and ask what became of the boat. When you smile it is a boat, he says, and when you kiss it is a moth." (how a moth becomes a boat)
This. What kind of sweet? A Spearmint Leaf. Yummy but cutting. I don't think I've ever felt so satisfied. Slept so deeply. Woken so sad and unhinged. Other nights I'm more restless and we battle. "I love you Dear, but could you please move yonder."
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