February 2012
“Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her...”
– Wendell Berry (via fernsandmoss)
“A sky faded from too much light, hangs very far above, unreachable. From it, the...”
– Sharmistha Mohanty, from “Yellow Light” (via hypocrite-lecteur)
mitochondria:
Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.
— W.S. Merwin, Separation
“Suffering, like a stone . . .
(around my neck,
deep inside me)”
– Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary (translated by Richard Howard)
“In the years afterward, I fled whenever somebody began to understand me. That...”
– Pascal Mercier (via mirroir)
“We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year...”
– Courtney Martin (via occult-symmetry)
I’ve always wanted to begin a poem with the line,... →
ahuntersheart:
I’ve always wanted to begin a poem with the line, “I’ve always wanted to begin.” Now I have. Best to end here, but then the universe is expanding back into its black beginnings, and space, aware of its own looming demise, is singing of possibilities. I’m almost over, it sings, it’s almost over…
“I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
And what did I see I had...”
– Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Wild Swans” (via proustitute)
“Those hours given over to basking in the glow of an imagined
future, of being...”
– “The Old Age of Nostalgia” by Mark Strand (via growing-orbits)
