We were walking out of Walmart today and it was still the same kind of really nice light and I don’t know why but I was thinking about love,
and I guess a lot of people think about love.
But I wondered what it might like to be with someone who you’re in love with. To walk through parking lots and have the light drown in the shadows your skin (with light there’s always shadows and those are sometimes the prettiest)
I just wondered if maybe people who are in love live differently. If a part of their heart is sewn a little differently, or beats a little faster, or aches a little harder. I wonder if that part of your heart knew silhouettes and cold hands and January 5ths or 9ths or Septembers. If maybe things like seeing the sun mean more than just waking up or if drinking coffee or kicking through leaves or putting butter on toast. I wondered if maybe things we’re more important then. If maybe making pancakes or finding fields or writing letters means more. If maybe there’s an inch of your heart that begins to work again and recognize and understand and steal away instances or hours or days in which a persons eyes are brighter or they speak with a different voice or their cheeks are stained with rain.
Today in the car I laughed a lot and for a minute I understand why there’s so many poems and stories about laughter; about it being a melody or a verse or a song of any sort. Life is different I think, when you’re in love. Even if it’s just with life.
maybenotbutyes asked: Thanks, but you take Pretty magnificent pictures you're self.(: