And he sits and he drinks and he thinks and he writes and he smokes the best ones and he sips on the liquor that makes my tongue less graceful and no matter what I still love milk.
I'm quilting thoughts. I want to know, I want to see it standing there, finished at the end of it all, the most breathtaking collection of anything anyone has ever seen. I want to see it all stitched together, knowing the way each part played, the way each part looked at one time, at another time. I want to appreciate it all. I want to love. All of it. 
