"There is no rule on how to write. Sometimes it comes easily and perfectly; sometimes it's like drilling rock and then blasting it out with charges."
-Ernest Hemingway
-Ernest Hemingway
Free
September 20, 2010
I could get on your motorbike and we could drive to the mountain.
Mapless, we’ll go to a place your gas could reach.
For the wheels that burn and the wind that rustles our silver hair.
The arms that are wrapped tightly around your waist.
I’ll be speaking softly the directions at your ears.
The world will carry on without me. Without us.
So let’s go. Let’s not care.
You are the only map I know.
Husband researchers-and volunteers, encore lexically solid poor.
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