We draw circles around ourselves don’t we, long arcs of long radius and in the center we stay. Some circles are shields, the moat to the castle of our souls, the walls we build to protect the thumping heart in the middle of all that stone. Some, are not. Some circles are nets, cast out with graceful hands, the long cascade that opens and envelops, wider than these walls, softer for the catching. These are those of fibers woven from that same refusal to hide, to stay alone, these are those that found you. Shall we call home this overlap, this place where my arcs and yours meet, this Venn diagram behind the walls, this courtyard behind the castle stone, the was of it all just beyond those deep waters, the will be safely sleeping in the middle? Come storm, and knock on these fortifications, pound with your wind and wave, these circles grew and hold Us now, we the center of something new. We the choice made and hollered over trench filled with waters dark, we the sound of shouting in once voice over and again into the night air, the mantra that is our song: all the days, all the days, all the days. -Tyler Knott Gregson- for Lisha & Sarah