I live here.

This house is built on warmth and light and love.  Not the house I have built my home in, which shelters my small family from the cold; I’m talking about the house I live in, my soft body.

This is a good house, which I must work to maintain.  Water, repose, and fuel.  Mending, diligence.  Attention to hardening.  Replenishing, always.  Quiet.  Air, and the open tallness of the mountains close by.  Tending to the whims of this fat soul.

I will live here, in this body, until the warm and soft heart I bear – the one that is open, freely, beats no longer.  I will live to pour the light of “I see you” onto others, from increasingly smile-wrinkled eyes, until the day they don’t open.

I will stay in the soft spot, where love lives, and hold fast without fear.  I will let all of me see all of all of you, and all…