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Before it came inside
I had watched it from my kitchen window,
watched it swell like a new balloon,
watched it slump and then divide,
like something I know I know -
a broken pear or two halves of the moon,
or round white plates floating nowhere
or fat hands waving in the summer air
until they fold together like a fist or a knee.
After that it came to my door. Now it lives here.
And of course: it is a soft sound, soft as a seal's ear
that was caught between a shape and a shape and then returned to me.
You know how parents call
from sweet beaches anywhere, come in come in,
and how you sank under water to put out
the sound, or how one of them touched in the hall
at night: the rustle and the skin
you couldn't know, but heard, the stout
slap of tides and the dog snoring. It's here
now, caught back from time in my adult year -
the image we did forget: the cranking shells on our feet
or the swing of the spoon in soup. It is real
as splinters stuck in your ear. The noise we steal
is half a bell. And outside cars whisk by on the suburban street
and are there and are true.
What else is this, this intricate shape of air?
calling me, calling you.
May 7, 2024
â
âBut it is hard to speak of these things/how the voices of light enter the body/and begin to write their stories/how the earth holds us painfully against its breast made of humor and bramblesâŠwhere we stand in the tremble of thought/taking the vast outside into ourselvesâ (Directions, 11).Â
Jan 28, 2024
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By Margaret Atwood. My favorite love poem đč
I would like to watch you sleeping,Â
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,Â
sleeping. I would like to sleepÂ
with you, to enterÂ
your sleep as its smooth dark waveÂ
slides over my head
and walk with you through that lucentÂ
wavering forest of bluegreen leavesÂ
with its watery sun & three moonsÂ
towards the cave where you must descend,Â
towards your worst fear
I would like to give you the silverÂ
branch, the small white flower, the oneÂ
word that will protect youÂ
from the grief at the centerÂ
of your dream, from the griefÂ
at the center. I would like to followÂ
you up the long stairwayÂ
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped handsÂ
to where your body liesÂ
beside me, and you enterÂ
it as easily as breathing in
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
Oct 22, 2024
Top Recs from @drsax
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I swear I can plank for unimaginable amounts of time while listening to Fiona Apple I don't know why it works but it works and the rush it gives me is unbeatable
Feb 12, 2025
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I cannot recommend enough learning how to bake something incredibly well and making it your signature. Bake it once, twice, seven times, learn it well, bring it for your friends, enemies, coworkersâyou become a legend. I perfected baklava several years ago and almost every holiday thereâs the inevitable request for me to bring some and everyone knows me as the baklava girl and it fills me with so much joy to participate in this exchange of sweets and compliments and I swear it enlivens my ego and awakens my heart and everyone wins and itâs divine
Feb 10, 2025
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like 95% of the people who talk shit about modern art donât even know that nothing made after the 70s even falls into the CATEGORY of modern art! Weâre not talking that banana-taped-to-a-wall shit. Weâre talking an entire CENTURY of widely diverse and prolific art. If you hate modern art and wanna shit talk it as a whole and understand that youâre including futurism and dadaism and cubism and expressionism and IMPRESSIONISM (while u strut around with your MONET tote bag saying crap like NOW THIS IS THE REAL SHIT), then go right ahead! Nothing wrong with hating modern art but damn at least know what it IS! Like damn can we stop pretending itâs quirky to âonly like the classicsâ already (many of your classics fucking ARE MODERN ART BITCH)! And donât let me catch u praising shit like Manet, Degas, Renoir, Matisse, Cassatt, Hopper either, because bitch I have bad news for you
Jan 9, 2025