“I am a lotus. It takes a century for my toes to reach for the ground beneath me, a century for my hands to reach for the sun. A dragonfly visits me one summer. We spend the long hours of the days together, locked in a quiet caress. They are the happiest months of my life. Through him I, anchored so tightly to the mud, come to know flight. I am his hammock and his refuge; his stained-glass wings are my church. He dies in my arms. I hold him for a thousand years.”
