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Phoebe Smolin
words that melt me
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The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

∆ Love after Love, by Derek Walcott

Love after Love by Derek Walcott
Ocean Vuong, ‘Into the Breach’, Night Sky With Exit Wounds
Ocean Vuong, ‘Into the Breach’, Night S…

"You know, they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage. Occasionally, the river floods these places. 'Floods' is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding: it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was. Writers are like that: remembering where we were, that valley we ran through, what the banks were like, the light that was there and the route back to our original place. It is emotional memory--what the nerves and the skin remember as well as how it appeared. And a rush of imagination is our flooding."

Toni Morrison, 1986

Toni Morrison, Remembering

“There is never any end. There are always new sounds to imagine; new feelings to get at. And always, there is the need to keep purifying these feelings and sounds so that we can really see what we've discovered in its pure state. So that we can see more and more clearly what we are. In that way, we can give to those who listen the essence, the best of what we are. But to do that at each stage, we have to keep on cleaning the mirror.”

John Coltrane

John Coltrane
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 Ellen Bass, The World Has Need of You
Ellen Bass, The World Has Need of You
“Wild Geese: after Mary Oliver” by Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz
“Wild Geese: after Mary Oliver” by Cris…
The moon rose over the bay. I had a lot of feelings.
The moon rose over the bay. I had a lot…
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