Love is everything that isn’t despair.
I am almost tempted to say this even
though I don’t believe it’s true because
there are so many things in-between.
A competition lost is sad but not quite
despair and doesn’t come anywhere
close to being love. But there’s something
about love that’s as beautiful as losing,
as essential as that failure, that falling
from which you stand up because there’s
a blackbird on a branch that that you need
a better look at. And I love these evenings
when it seems I’ve accomplished so little.
When we feel as if we’re lying back on
damp grass when we’re really indoors, sitting
on these creaky wooden chairs, inspired by
the sounds that escape every time we move.
Photograph by Jose Padua