Slipping sliding slippery glimpses caught like moments trapped in glass jars, wings fluttering and stirring the sound and air and a sigh escapes her lips. Deep sighs breathed out from her deep places; she is finally embodied, she is embodied, finally.
Finality, embodied. Moments are birth and death and so it goes on. Finality exists in the same moment and dimension as possibility, and that is so much to feel. And she feels this keenly.
This, she feels keenly.
Loss, gain, love, courage, grief, fear, confidence, excitement, and honest heartache at the brevity of moments and experiences. Brevity of relationships which brim with potential and love and happiness. Brevity because committment means different things to different people. Brevity because things really do happen for a reason.
Or they don’t happen for a reason. You didn’t happen for a reason. We didn’t happen for a reason. You didn’t understand me for a reason.
Brevity for the sake of brevity.
What loss. And onward we go, experiencing this, all of it, in the fleetest of fleeting moments.
