I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds – but I think of you always in those intervals.
∆ Salvador Plascencia, from The People of Paper (McSweeney’s, 2005)
“What else is the point of having a body, if not to see your own hurt completely & love it anyway?”
∆ “If you forbid anything loudly enough it’s bound to come back to haunt you.” (a poem for you), Topaz Winters
“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”
― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum