“Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.”
– Robin Wall Kimmerer (Braiding Sweetgrass)
People who kiss scars are my favourite, may be a second hand fall but so are we on a daily basis, going on. And out. First choice goes to love dressed as pain then it’s held and appreciated again. Like a child. People who kiss birth marks are my favourite, may be oddly placed but also a smooth basis of an own peculiar trace. If it were scar owned, it would be a celestial visit a stardust experience remembered as a rock a river and a book about the day we lost ourselves. It's not.