"For us, our house is not insentient matter—it has a heart, and a soul, and eyes to see us with; and approvals, and solicitudes, and deep sympathies; it is of us, and we are in its confidence, and live in its grace and in the peace of its benediction. We never come home from an absence that its face does not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome—and we can not enter it unmoved."
—Mark Twain, 1896
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Monday, January 3, 2011

Journal entry

You were there in my dream this morning, and I sauntered, reluctantly, into the waking without you. How, please tell me, can I empty myself of this light? How can I fall into the morning and still feel the breath of you on my lips?
~
Don't get your panties all in a twist.
'you' is a place not a person.
although.....
~

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