Sometimes

Marielle and I bond in British bars, wilting over Irish accents, stuffing our faces with overstuffed Chipotle, and laugh, and talk too quickly, chatter, really, hoping to stumble, fall, and spontaneously find ourselves in a puddle of wisdom.

It is never that quick and rarely that eager, but joy, by itself, and with others, is its own form of knowledge, experience and virtue.

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