If my love could be represented by a blur, it would be the beating of a hummingbird’s wings. Did you know that my love is the only love that can fly backwards?

The last 33 years of my life have been a blur, like a hummingbird’s beating wings. Time flies, but not backwards, like a hummingbird can.

Our time together was a blur—not because I was drunk, which I was, but because our love was like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings.

You are Mr. Owl. I am Ms. Hummingbird. We may be came from different species but as long as you’re a bird, I’m a bird too.

As our bodies are mostly made of water, I’d rather be hungry than thirsty. And as love is mostly made up of sugar water, I’d rather be a hummingbird caged in your heart.

Some of my old memories feel trapped in amber in my brain, lucid and burning, while others are like the wing beat of a hummingbird, an intangible, ephemeral blur.

may my faith always beat the end of the daylike a hummingbird…returningto its favorite flower.