For how could one express in words those emotions of the body?
Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
I would like to be the Milky Way, star-stretched and caught by your eye, a lens made vigorous by my streak of starlight. Beheld. I would like to be that bird, hover point, my beak just above the water, the moment your eye blinks the shutter my shudder which is either from your shot, captured, or from the expectation of flight and freedom.