Every perfect thing I have ever held in my hands. Small wishes, fiery cities, warm loaves of love pulled hot out of the furnace. Kisses standing still in time. Lake water brushing my skin with sanctity. Bug nibbling on my shoulder out here in this tent. On this campground. In Toronto. In Canada. Under these stars, in this world, in this universe, with these rolling and unfolding strangenesses of lives. If only I could tell you the preciousness of this moment. How the presence of this night sky, and all the daylight moments tucked into the horizon, is the most elegantly carved wonder of a day. If only I could wrap it up, toss it warm fingered and light like a skipping rock over cool water.
Every small, glamorous morning like this. Cool wind blowing breezy snippets of sun through the tent flaps. Fresh morning light bathing my body is brightness

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