jade quinn, read this!

http://jacketmagazine.com/27/w-sike.html

Part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you.

(Source: clavicola, via tweedarms)

Book Mania!: Excerpt from "Everything Is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safran Foer

bookmania:

It was almost dark when the sound of crickets awoke her. She lit the Shabbos candles, observed the shadows against her hands, covered her eyes and said the blessing, and went up to the Kolker’s bed. His face was badly bruised and swollen.

Brod, he said, but she silences him. She brought up a…

He’d left his belt. She
followed him and
threw it in the street.
Wine: kisses: snake: end

of their story. Be-
gin again, under-
stand what happened; de-
spite that battered

feeling, it will have been
worth it; better to
have etc…
(—not to have been born

at all— Schopenhauer.)
But, soft! Enter tears.

(via tweedarms)

i want to lick your wound

lightsindark:

god I got the sad blue blues,

this woman sat there and she

said

are you really Charles

• • • Bukowski?

and I said

• forget that

I do not feel good

I’ve got the sad sads

(via tweedarms)

these long fuckin days

Maya’s lost again. I heard the train
whistle her name in to my
twelve am o clock midnight
ten minutes before if even
I smiled so relieved
saw a girl jump up into the
arms of her boy like grace
you don’t see that side of Love’s face
in the library these days then
I heard the whistle
call all her soldiers,
Maya, where have you
gone tonight? But it’s raining
and I don’t want to catch a cold
so at the glass I turn my shoulder
to the dark. Maya,
you’d best run fast

“You never finish my sentence” (shadow I’m wearing of our parting/ AW.)
Do you remember she says the color of your arms that summer? I remember, in olive green. And then December, we sat in that blue glowing room late into night.
You hated that game, he said.
But only I was bad at it! Does my gaze feel different she asked, heavier or lighter or unmagicked? I used to want to marry you.
I know, he says, Imagine the children their hair.
I know, she says, I never thought you thought about those things I was unsure.
I know, he says, Maybe you spoke it to me once.
She says You remember. You would have crooned us to sleep.
He says You would have written us poems.
She says About our angel tangled hair. I still want to, in the end. But aren’t we so heavy? Those rooms were so dark. We always flew through the winter. I trudged.
Where do I live, he says
They say Far away
It makes sense she says, that we’d start again in summer.
But this summer- I think it will be an end. He will say.
And I know not where we will begin, she will say Again if we begin again.