This distance between us which stretches and shrinks, as the breathing trees, exhaling their oxygen, lift and sigh with the weight of the world, clasped by the molten center… We dance in and out of our bodies, never one thing or the other. What is this that we are so like the mist that changes to water; this rocking tide that we remember imperfectly in our separate skins. Burdened with ourselves, as we love one another, how to escape the unyielding law of the universe, the self and the Other; imperfect love. That the self sometimes in sleep, admits the loss, the grief, and accepts the burden of loneliness; embracing what we will not admit we long for. ~ Ruth Stone