lifeinpoetry:

I still sing to you,
                  though I have not seen you in years. 

Year of the live oak that rooted in my toes,
                  branched between my legs,
                  wrapped its fingers
                           around the tinderbox of my heart
which I closed
against your knocking.

— Jenny Molberg, from “Apology,” Refusal

(via atreides)

bluebeardsbride:

“What matters is that everything always leaves something behind, some trace. […] What matters is that everything always leaves something behind, and however small the flame, someone might be able to take it up and use it to find something else.”

— Enrique Vila-Matas, ‘Invented Memories’ Vampire in Love and Other Stories (translated by Margaret Jull Costa)

(via bluebeardsbride-deactivated2021)