If the words I use are a record of my love, they are a record of my blindness and ignorance also. That I might inadvertently cause pain in another, is one more vote for keeping silent; but I know well that my silence can lead to the same result. And so where does my responsibility end, and that of the hurt party begin? That, it seems, is a faulty question, for love does not keep accounts. It would be just as foolish to ask where I end, and where the hurt party begins. There is no separating us.
It’s a rocking chair universe,
isn’t it, and it’s about
to come down
on a cat’s
Songs and Letters, November 4, 2008