"Fuck countries. I hate all of them. You are the only country I want."
"More and more frequently
of me dissolve."
"A poem has secrets that the poet knows nothing of."
"The pallid woman with black hair
rose like a fish from the abyss,
and the two of them built a contraption,
armed to the teeth, against love."
"Advertisement for the Mountain" - Christina Davis
There are two versions of every life.
In the first one, you get a mother, a father,
your very own room.
You learn to walk, which is only done by walking.
You learn the past tense of have, which is hunger.
You learn to ask almost anything
is to ask it to be over,
as when the lover asks the other
“Are you sleeping? Are you beginning
to go away?”
(And whether or not you learn it, life does not penetrate
more than five miles above the earth
or reach more than three miles beneath the sea.
Life is eight miles long.
You could walk it, and be there before sundown.
Or swim it, or fall it, or crawl it.)
The second is told from the point
of view of the sky.