Safe Subjects How can love heal the mouth shut this way? Say something worth breath. Let is surface, recapitulate how fat leeches press down gently on the sex goddesses eyelids. Let truth have its way with us like a fishhook holds to life, holds dearly to nothing worth say -pull it out, bringing with it… Continue reading Yusef Komunyakaa
I just hope that one day—preferably when we’re both blind drunk—we can talk about it. — J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey. (Back Bay Books January 30, 2001) Originally published 1957.
It was his words she loved, how he formed souls out of air. Just breath. She preferred the page’s purity to his restless hands. If he were a man made only of words she’d give her whole self to him. — Karina Borowicz, from “Reading Anna Karenina,” The Southern Review (Winter 2014)
I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that… Continue reading Willa Cather
I feel my weakness summoning me like a bed of soft grey ashes I might crawl into. —Marge Piercy, from “The longest night,” Moon is Always Female. (Knopf August 7, 2013)
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars. — Walt Whitman, from “Song of Myself,” Leaves of Grass. Originally published: July 4, 1855.
When the night falls I stand on the stairs and listen, the stars swarm in the garden and I stand out in the darkness. Hear, a star fell with a clang. Do not walk on the grass with bare feet; my garden is full of shards. — Edith Södergran, “The Stars,” Love and Solitude: Selected… Continue reading Edith Södergran