an art, a fortunate accident, a camp in the desert

"..Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
[via theue]

how grateful i am for the vision of s!

+ image found via the magnificent enthusiasm of hh, here

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