Love that is not of this earth

Somewhere there's a monument to the love that you haven't found yet, the love of your life and the shape of your future, discharging ions into our skin through the dark. She is the span of the rainbow you see before waking the first touch of air on your body each morning the word that you say without speaking the prayer that you made before life. She is the space of tomorrow

the spill of conscience
the fill of desire
the spell of your name.

Shee is the love you remembered at birth the love you will make after dying. Somewhere it waits for you, love that is not of this earth. Where the sky ends. Where memory pales. Where eternity is. Almost heaven.

- Marianne Wiggins, Almost Heaven

Almost Heaven

Memory is all we are and all we have. A reconstruction of the past. Not its reproduction.
Something like a gallows or a birdcage that the mind constructs.
It is the monument we build inside ourselves.
Each soul constructs its own.
And it is either everything we've kept in life. Or everything we've lost.

- Marianne Wiggins, from Almost Heaven

Pray you've saved those memories of love

It's a protein thing.
Memory is.
The way it works, way it leaves its fingerprints, way the brain encodes it: indiscriminately. It's been proven we remember better when we're feeling strong emotions. Like pictures snapped in bright light, bright conditions, extra vivid, coded neuronally with the added oomph of anger horror fear despair or hope. Or love. Always go for love. Pray you've saved those memories of love.

-Marianne Wiggins
Almost Heaven