To the human animals, to the long lost and the finally found, to the freedom in taking your own life into your arms and loving hard.


This is for you, for me, for all of us.


The ones who seek and say the names for the unspoken and outcast, who linger with intimacy at the glory of the secular world, who no longer wait for removal of old injuries and instead wear scars with defiance and the softest love. The ones who reinvent the old myths and reclaim the unbound slips of skin that lived between and beneath the words,
who do not clamor for the world beyond but choose this,

here,
fallen in love with the breath that lives
close to the bone.

Whether you believe or do not believe, in the gods or the body’s language unbended or the arrows that point in forever opposing directions, what I know is this:


We are all deserving of the words of devotion.


So this is for all of us here, in the living. I wrote us words like driftwood thrown from sea to shore, collecting them together with heart valves like rope to tie strong, giving language to the Salt and Honey of secular psalms and unholy hymns, a lexicon for the humans with our clutched fists and waking want, our adaptation and resistance, our dark and diaphanous light.

 

Yours in love and life before death,
Isabel

 

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Salt + Honey

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