❝ In my dream, people apologized for things that were about to happen and lit candles by inhaling. Lovers pulled up each-other’s underwear, buttoned each-other’s shirts and dressed, and dressed, and dressed. My dream went all the way back to the beginning, the rain rose into the clouds, and the animals descended the ramp, two by two, two giraffes, two spiders. The rain came after the rainbow. Eve put the apple back on the branch, the tree went back into the ground, it became a sapling, which became a seed. God said, let there be light, and there was darkness. ❞
On my hands and knees, I bled for you. Crawling over thickets and roots, digging for jungle fruit. Zimbabwe. This was how we traveled. The hands of your imagination stretched across the globe like mile long shadows. Palms caked with red dirt. Melon juice running down our arms; sticky, sweet. We watched sunlight pass through pieces of fruit and saw a womb there, in the pulpy golden flesh shot through with veins. You baptized me where the stream ran cold and clear. Swore there was something in that water, how it made you forget your sickness. How the pain melted like ice. My hands were shaking, bone-white. I thought you would leave then. I thought you would let the current carry you away and never return to me. Quiet fires. Making love in the African heat. You found a home in every place that took you in its arms; I found mine in you.
❝ Oh we’re a mess, poor humans, poor flesh—hybrids of angels and animals, dolls with diamonds stuffed inside them. We’ve been to the moon and we’re still fighting over Jerusalem. Let me tell you what I do know: I am more than one thing, and not all of those things are good. The truth is complicated. It’s two-toned, multi-vocal, bittersweet. I used to think that if I dug deep enough to discover something sad and ugly, I’d know it was something true. Now I’m trying to dig deeper.
I didn’t want to write these pages until there were no hard feelings, no sharp ones. I do not have that luxury. I am sad and angry and I want everyone to be alive again. I want more landmarks, less landmines. I want to be grateful but I’m having a hard time with it. ❞
—— Richard Siken, Spork Editor’s Pages: Black Telephone (via yakovbarnes)
❝ A few years ago, scientists discovered that human spit
contained a natural pain killer, opiorphin,
and when they tested it, they found it was
six times stronger than morphine.
Maybe I did not love you.
Maybe I only loved the way I felt healed after kissing you. ❞
I shove my hand into your mouth and you bite down hard enough to draw blood. Your teeth apologize even as they puncture my flesh, I’m sorry, I love you, it doesn’t count if it didn’t hurt.
We fall to the ground and weep for the animals we’ve become. You watch me eat with my bare hands. I pick fleas out of your matted fur. We forget our names and let our hair grow wild.
It has been so long since we made love, but we still fuck if it’s cold enough and we’re both in the same part of the room. I nurse the cubs who survived. Bury the rest. Will you fight another to feed the little ones?
Come home covered in blood with their meat between your jaws? Hungry mouths do not speak, they only howl. This is the language of want. Our hearts swell with muscle, more for strength than emotion.
There’s a splinter in my paw. It was not my intention to get used to this limp, but old dogs learn new tricks sometimes. I no longer ask if you love me, only if you’ll stay.
❝ Here is the topography of false starts. Here
a whole constellation is lousy with desire.
Here what passes for love is the same
as anywhere. Here no one has said
a prayer for the stars, and here no one
comes, except to leave, except to stay
long enough to bruise. ❞
—— Paul Guest, from “The Report from Home,” in The Resurrection of the Body and the Ruin of the World: Poems (New Issues Press, 2003)
A list of songs that I ache to. Songs that physically hurt. Soft, slow, and acoustic (for the most part). Compiled here for your listening pleasure if you don’t feel like hunting down every track. It was hard to choose only twenty songs, but here it is. Hope you like it and follow me on 8tracks for upcoming mixes :)
Peter Bradley Adams - “Los Angeles”
Andy Brown - “Ashes”
The Cinematic Orchestra - “To Build a Home”
Ron Pope - “A Drop in the Ocean”
James Vincent McMorrow - “And If My Heart Should Somehow Stop”
Please can you post a list of songs that you ache to? songs that physically hurt? Preferably soft and slow and acoustic. You've posted some really wonderful things before and I'd love some suggestions.
Oh my god yes? I wanna do this. I’m gonna do this, give me like an hour to pick out some of my faves, okay?
❝ My body fills and fills like a tumbler
of lemonade poured by God. I am
a hundred light bulbs burning out.
I am your favorite dessert. I am opening
and opening and I feel as though I cannot
open anymore or my legs would surely grow
flowers from the back of my knees.
I am overflowing the bathtub. I am spilling
spilling spilling clean. ❞
❝ When she was unhappy she would lock herself in the bedroom until she felt better. ‘It’s none of your business,’ she told him. ‘I don’t want anybody to see me when I’m like that. He used to call her a clam. ‘Open up,’ he hammered on all the locked doors of their life together, basement first, then maisonette, then mansion. ‘I love you, let me in.’ He needed her so badly, to reassure himself of his own existence, that he never comprehended the desperation in her dazzling, permanent smile, the terror in the brightness with which she faced the world, or the reasons why she hid when she couldn’t manage to beam. ❞