I think once you’ve thought about how a person sleeps, how they’d feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed — once you’ve thought about that, you’re fucked.
All These Things You Wish You’d Say
I always find myself caught between saying too much and not saying enough
September: it was the most beautiful of words, he’d always felt, evoking orange-flowers, swallows, and regret.
I have longed for people before, I have loved people before.
Not like this.
It was not this.
Give me a world, you have taken the world I was.
Anne Carson, from “Tag”