And so at last I climbed the honey tree, ate chunks of pure light, ate the bodies of bees that could not get out of my way, ate the dark hair of the leaves, the rippling bark, the heartwood. Such frenzy! But joy does that, I’m told, in the beginning. Later, maybe, I’ll come here only sometimes and with a middling hunger. But now I climb like snake, I clamber like a bear to the nuzzling place, to the light salvaged by the thighs of bees and racked up in the body of the tree. Oh, anyone can see how I love myself at last! how I love the world! climbing by day or night in the wind, in the leaves, kneeling at the secret rip, the cords of my body stretching and singing in the heaven of appetite.
The Honey Tree by Mary Oliver
Virginia Woolf, from To the Lighthouse
“Once is enough. Once is enough to say goodbye on earth. And to grieve, that too, of course. Once is enough to say goodbye forever.”
— Louise Glück, from Lament in “Poems 1962-2012″
“[The sea] says nothing, explains nothing, teaches no lesson. And still it is a good idea to lend an ear. Listening to this empty noise is nothing but living, staying within ourselves…”
— Jean-Michel Maulpoix, “They look at blue but will never know how to say it”, A Matter of Blue: Poems (trans. Dawn M. Cornelio)
Source: jessica-roux.com
Long days. Inside your ribcage the last minutes of daylight still linger, breath and silver through the darkening blue. (…)
Joanna Klink, from Night Sky in “The Nightfields” (via adrasteiax)
Lord Byron, from “Manfred”
luisa beccaria | milan spring ‘16
– @loeypark ;