You Can’t Touch Love, Love Touches You
Pockets believed all important things should fit in a pocket. He tried to pocket a sunbeam—whoosh. It slipped through his fingers, warm and bright, but gone in an instant. He tried to catch a breeze—whoooo. It tickled his nose, teasing, before darting away. He cupped an echo—“Hello!”—but echoes, like memories, don’t sit still. He even […]