singing a hundred thousand fire-flies:

(why do we keep shrieking, when we mean soft things?)

the family motto: "tout ou rien"
personal motto: let's not make a fuss

if you want to become an aeronaut, this is what you'll need:

strong-steeped leaves & as many tea cozies as you can find, a bootlegged concert by wilco and andrew bird, the music turned up wonderfully too loud, pots of glue and paintbrushes, choreographed fingers, patience. at least one pair of lion-mittens, metal ties, containers of isopropyl & water, paperclips and a frozen hilltop. an engine built from soda cans ("citrus fizz," for the name), a friend with bravery, and the watching elementary-school windows. cold hands measure warm air and growing unresistance, scorched & wet pavement, the timing of when to let go. (up up up! burn into nothing, dissolute black snowflakes in the park.) toasted croissants with ginger marmalade, second chances, hot chocolate bubbling on the stove-top and most of all, warmth.