Love is not on schedule. Love is all that is. Love is that scene from Everything, Everywhere, All at Once where mom and daughter are two primordial rocks, like the primordial dust we mark ourselves with on Ash Wednesday. Muster a smile, take a selfie; we line our best photos up for the russian roulette of dating apps even though what we really want isn’t someone who’s only there for our highlight reel but someone who’s there for our dailies. You know, for our bed head, our sleepy smiles, for the dawn light creeping in the window and along the wall. For new furniture, broken down cars, for plane rides across the country to watch your sister get engaged. Reciprocity with the turn of the earth; open the blinds and let the light in, this death is not a solemn occasion, the earth is turning for you to live, to live, to live.

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