December 2011
9 posts
“Live for awhile in the books you love. Learn from them what is worth learning,...”
– Rilke, Viareggio, April 5, 1903, Letters to a Young Poet
Swirled tight, trussed, manic, most trusted. You love hills, swells, waves of sand, waves of water. You love traffic on bridges that might split in two. You love stairs leading to stairs leading to ice cream stands. Shards of pottery as good as a map. You love fractured control towers and the very broken Alaskan Way Viaduct. You love squat corner stores and barber-pole signs. You love the idea of...
(What are your ghosts like?) (They are on the insides of the lids of my eyes.) (This is also where my ghosts reside.) (You have ghosts?) (Of course I have ghosts.) (But you are a child.) (I am not a child.) (But you have not known love.) (These are my ghosts, the spaces amid love.)” ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
All I really need is to feel the bed dimple when you crawl inside. Tyler Knott Gregson
“I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to...”
– Haruki Murakami
“Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright...”
– The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Just let me slip out the front door. Let us stop these foolish cravings. Pish and posh and love stories. Can’t we know better? Please, don’t hide my things beneath the covers. Don’t leave me scattered. Please, I promise you I will be silent. I promise you you won’t hear a thing. I promise you I will not wake you. Not even for a second. I will kindly pack my belongings in a small, aching tote and I...
“And she wanted for a moment to hold and devour him, wanted his mouth, his ears,...”
– F. Scott Fitzgerald