Competition Kills The Joy Of The Process.

Good Girl and Other Yearnings, Isabelle Correa

A city of ghosts

Lost from 2020

Mary Oliver, "Blue Iris." Devotions

When the sky gets painted, everyone keeps moving, but we stop and stare, we hold hands & our eyes constantly at the sky.

“I can’t exactly describe how I feel but it’s not quite right. And it leaves me cold.”

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

June Jordan, from Haruko/Love Poems

“A poem begins with a lump in the throat.”

— Robert Frost

Casted shadows are beautiful until they're casted by your memories, or traumas. Who would dance in the shadows casted by nightmares?

Anneshwa

“I loved you before I was born. It doesn’t make sense, I know. I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see. And I’ve lived longing for your every look ever since. That longing entered time as this body. And the longing grew as this body waxed. And the longing grows as this body wanes. That longing will outlive this body. I loved you before I was born. It makes no sense, I know. Long before eternity, I caught a glimpse of your neck and shoulders, your ankles and toes. And I’ve been lonely for you from that instant. That loneliness appeared on earth as this body. And my share of time has been nothing but your name outrunning my ever saying it clearly. Your face fleeing my ever kissing it firmly once on the mouth. In longing, I am most myself, rapt, my lamp mortal, my light hidden and singing. I give you my blank heart. Please write on it what you wish.”

— Li-Young Lee, from The Undressing: Poems; “I loved you before I was born”