After Love We could not be. The earth could not be enough for us. We are not equal to what the sun intended with its distant desire. One foot draws a little closer to the light. The other insists on darkness. Because love is not forever, not in me, or anyone else. Hatred waits for… Continue reading Miguel Hernández
In my great melancholy, I loved life, for I love my melancholy. ― Søren Kierkegaard
The wind lifts the whole branch of the poplar carries it up and out and holds it there while each leaf is the whole tree reaching from its roots in the dark earth out through all its rings of memory to where it has never been — W. S. Merwin, from “Weinrich’s Hand,” The Moon… Continue reading W. S. Merwin
There are days I drop words of comfort on myself like falling leaves and remember that it is enough to be taken care of by my self. — Brian Andreas
What I have is a desire To name my desire To be as close to my condition as possible — Sarah Jean Grimm, from “Sex Machina,” The Literary Review: An International Journal of Contemporary Writing (vol. 62, no. 1, Spring 2019)
I want to be inside your darkest everything. — Frida Kahlo
With the suns of summer came the orders of leisure, of desertion. In the morning dressed with seagulls your breath was dew falling on the treetops on clothes in the patios, on the cliffs of the seaboard. When the dance wore out the metal of the trumpets and cane rum kept away the sleep of… Continue reading Fernando Linero
The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions. ― Ralph Waldo Emerson
I ask for a brief flash, the sudden glint of a reflection on the wave of that moment : memory and forgetting, in the end, the same instantaneous clarity. — Octavio Paz, “Prayer,” A Tree Within (New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1988)
But I would never kiss anyone who doesn’t burn me like the sun. — Jens Lekman
The Vale of Soul-Making 