Sometimes I remember those quiet moments; one might even call them moments of love. I might be tempted to call it by the name of beauty instead, but it seems one often elicits the other in the observer.
During one of those quiet moments I simply watched her breathe: the coiling snake of muscles descending in a smooth wave made the moment seem all the quieter. But there was not complete silence; a tiny motion in her nose as the air rushed in sounded like the smallest ocean wave. It is ridiculous the beauty that is contained in one breath, the sense of peace it may contain. Though it is easier to see this grace in the breath of those we love, I believe that if one looks close enough, it may be seen in every breath from every one.
