Fuck yeah, Jeanette Winterson!

I dipped my hands in the water. Liquid time.

And I thought, “Go home and write the story again. Keep writing it because one day she will read it.”

You can change the story. You are the story.

No date line, no meridian, no gas-burnt stars, no transit of the planets, not the orbit of the earth nor the sun’s red galaxy, tell time here. Love is the keeper of the clocks.

I took off my watch and dropped it into the water.

Time take it.

Your face, your hands, the movement of your body…

Your body is my Book of Hours.