This poem is called "Everything."
And I wrote it because I was thinking about the cliche
that everybody has their love story waiting
to happen because there's somebody walking out there
in the world who's perfect for them
and you just have to meet them and then the love story starts.
And I was thinking, well, actually
it might be that the real great love stories are when those two
people never meet and don't have a chance to screw things up.
[LAUGHTER]
"Everything."
"She was watching the solar eclipse
through a piece of broken bottle when he left home.
He found a blue kite in the forest on the day
she lay down with a sailor.
When his name changed, she stitched a cloud
to a quilt made of rags.
They did not meet, so they could never be parted.
So she finished her prayer, and he folded his map of the sea."