I’ll leave you with this.<\/p>\n
The Thing Is<\/strong><\/p>\n To love life, to love it even Ellen Bass<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I’ll leave you with this. The Thing Is To love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you\u2019ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":71,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[144,185,309],"class_list":["post-2276","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-grief","tag-life","tag-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2276","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/71"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2276"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2276\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2277,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2276\/revisions\/2277"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2276"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2276"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/lunardreams.net\/baby\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2276"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nwhen you have no stomach for it
\nand everything you\u2019ve held dear
\ncrumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
\nyour throat filled with the silt of it.
\nWhen grief sits with you, its tropical heat
\nthickening the air, heavy as water
\nMore fit for gills than lungs;
\nWhen grief weights you like your own flesh
\nOnly more of it, an obesity of grief,
\nyou think, how can a body withstand this?<\/em>
\nThen you hold life like a face
\nbetween your palms, a plain face,
\nno charming smile, no violet eyes,
\nand you say yes, I will take you
\nI will love you, again.<\/p>\n