it is as familiar as a sister. She fills the bathtub, unravels my clothing into a heap on the floor. She sits on the toilet, painting her toenails, singing my favorite songs, while I soak. She has the most beautiful voice. The phone rings and rings and I let it just lay there screaming for… Read More When Sadness Comes
Pain is truth; all else is subject to doubt. – J.M. Coetzee augh. must all growth, empathy, enlightenment, connection come through suffering? probably.
But luxury has never appealed to me, I like simple things, books, being alone, or with somebody who understands. – Daphne du Maurier
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
I remember your collarbone, forming the tiniest satellite dish in the universe, your smile as the place where parallel lines inevitably crossed. I remember your eyes: fifty attack dogs on a single leash, how I once held the soft audience of your hand. I’ve been ignored by prettier women than you, but none who carried… Read More Letter to the Woman Who Stopped Writing Me Back
Spend your money on the things money can buy. Spend your time on the things money can’t buy. – Haruki Murakami
You do not have to know anything, just that I love you. But I have to know if I have your soul. I’m thinking, even now, in these conditions I’m thinking of you. Did you know that if I stop thinking about you, you die instantly? But fear not, I shall never cease to think… Read More from “A Private Affair”
Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers. – Margaret Atwood
I filled my gas tank to 33 dollars and 33 cents and told you it was for you because it was your favorite number. I organized our belongings (white t-shirts—books—toothbrushes— baby, this is where we keep our sweaters) as if using the word “our” would embed myself into what you call home. I bought flowers… Read More During the Month it Took You to Leave Me
I know this: There are tastes of mouths I could not have lived without; there are times I’ve pretended it was just about the sex because I couldn’t stand the way my heart was about to burst with happiness and awe and I couldn’t be that vulnerable, not again, not with this one. That waiting… Read More from “Let’s Just Get This Out in the Open”