|| Noun ||

That first time you cradled it in your hands

You felt the earth shift and its rotation around its axis

The clouds became photographs and the bees your friends

The world cannot contain its novelty and your smile

The second time you held it in your hands

You remembered the first revolution

Which opened your eyes and switched on your mind;

The grass is never greener on the other side

The third time you grabbed it in your hands

You demanded it not to fly

Said your jaunts to Heaven leave you weary

From all the chasing of the waves that licked the shore and left

The last time you dropped it

You told it the values you learned from the first three times:

One may have the will and one may have his ways

But the more you give the more you lose

For nothing is permanent in love’s affairs

– a.h. || Permanence ||


Sometimes it isn’t enough to want something — that want needs to want you back.

” He simply felt that if he could carry away the vision of the spot of earth she walked on, and the way the sky and sea enclosed it, the rest of the world might seem less empty. ” – The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton


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