Second evening poem — 31 Oct. ’64
To set things right—
that I am divided, do not know
any certainty of where I am—
that if the body loved goes into the mind’s back pasture
it is not from fulness and a one with the world,
but from despair
Love holds all over my naked body in the bed
going with the eyes into the trees or grass
The spirits of Love
fuck in my room
All hallows Eve.
They come to my bed
in the darkness where the eyes can see nothing,
and the body—
—Kenneth Irby. Photography credit Linda Brownlee.
5:13 pm • 5 February 2014 • 246 notes
OH AND WE’VE DONE IT BECAUSE IT’S RIGHT
10:45 pm • 4 February 2014
“Let’s face it. We’re undone by each other. And if we’re not, we’re missing something. If this seems so clearly the case with grief, it is only because it was already the case with desire. One does not always stay intact. It may be that one wants to, or does, but it may also be that despite one’s best efforts, one is undone, in the face of the other, by the touch, by the scent, by the feel, by the prospect of the touch, by the memory of the feel. And so when we speak about my sexuality or my gender, as we do (and as we must), we mean something complicated by it. Neither of these is precisely a possession, but both are to be understood as modes of being dispossessed, ways of being for another, or, indeed, by virtue of another.”
— Judith Butler, Undoing Gender (via voletasam)
10:19 pm • 4 February 2014 • 105 notes
“Is this what sadness is all about? Is it what comes over us when beautiful memories shatter in hindsight because the remembered happiness fed not just on actual circumstances but on a promise that was not kept?”
— Bernhard Schlink : The Reader (via brenda-turner)
4:58 pm • 3 February 2014 • 62 notes
“There’s no need to talk about it, because the truth of what one says lies in what one does.”
— Bernhard Schlink (via greatauthorquotes)
4:56 pm • 3 February 2014 • 94 notes
and then the horror and devastation that comes afterwards when you realize you were somehow wrong
(Source: dailydoseofstuf, via strandedstmarkscitylights)
6:20 pm • 31 January 2014 • 15,382 notes
Hesitate to Call
by Louise Gluck
Lived to see you throwing
Me aside. That fought
Like netted fish inside me. Saw you throbbing
In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see
That all that all flushed down
The refuse. Done?
It lives in me.
You live in me. Malignant.
Love, you ever want me, don’t.
7:07 pm • 29 January 2014 • 1 note