darling

And someday, you might hear the grass over my stone and it will be no less than all I will never get to say, because there is so little time to do more than live, laugh, and love you. And I would have it no other way. You who have held me when I claim to not remember. You who praise in the silence and haze, and reach-- as hard or as easy as I know reaching can be-- for all my faults, and yours, and ours. Let me give you my last waltz someday. It'll be my thank you, and my finest day. - Colors

You who make others whole again, you who walk, and make the black earth green, you who dance and sow laughter as seeds-- you who have exposed your own restless aches, and pettiness, and shyness, and softness, and humanity-- that strength which makes the shape of you sing, to me, and wants for too little in return (I should think!) I learn from you humility, maybe someday I can repay. Remember what I said about thank you's. Here I am, on my knees. - Colors