This is what is wrong: we, only we, the humans, can retreat from
We can be part full, only part, and not die. We can be in and
out of here, now,
at once, and not die. The little song, the little river, has banks.
We can pull up
and sit on the banks.
We can pull back
from the being of our bodies, we can live a
portion of them, we can be absent, no one can tell.
- Jorie Graham
i hear it in the deep heart's core
the château of my heart