“How tired I am,
my love.
How tired.
But not tired enough to
forget this:
That I would dig my fingers
through the earth
and lift forests by their roots
just to find my way
home to you.
How tired I am,
How tired.
But I hold on to the colour of
your eyes,
and the slopes of your cheeks,
and the way your palms
cradle my heavy head—
And I am reminded
that I almost rearranged
the entire universe for you.
How alive I am.
How alive. ”
— Nikka Ursula, The Bad Seed.
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