wretched and proud
You can write on a wall with a fish heart, it’s
because of the phosphorus. They eat it. There
are shacks like that down along the river. I am
writing this to be as wrong as possible to you.
Replace the door when you leave, it says. Now
you tell me how wrong that is, how long it
glows. Tell me.
—Anne Carson, Short Talks
Only (softly, fiercely)
the stars shining. Here,
in the room, the bedroom.
Saying I was brave, I resisted,
I set myself on fire.
— Louise Glück, ”Stars,” from The Seven Ages (via lucasta)