That's what I believe. I believe that universe wants to be noticed. I think the universe is improbably biased toward consciousness, that it rewards intelligence in part because the universe enjoys its elegance being observed. And who am I, living in the middle of history, to tell the universe that it-or my observation of it-is temporary?
Your lips are the best place in this world to place my lips on.
When I reach out, you take my hand.
When I smile, you mirror the expression.
When I triumph, you glory as if it were your own.
When I fail, you point to the light at the end.
When I need, you tenderly provide.
When I cry, you kiss away my tears.
When I suffer, you bleed.
And you wonder why I love you?