There are nights in the forest of words when I panic, every step into thicker darkness, the only way out to write myself into a clearing, which is silence.
Nights in the forest of words when I'm afraid we won't hear each other over clattering branches, over both our voices calling.
In winter, in the hour when the sun runs liquid then freezes, caught in the mantilla of empty trees; when my heart listens through the cold stethoscope of fear, your voice in my head reminds me what the light teaches.
Slowly you translate fear into love, the way the moon's blood is the sea. - Anne Michaels
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was that whole quote from anne michaesl cause i have to say that you really wowed me with the mantilla...i even dictionary.com'ed it and then said damn! nice word. so even if it wasn't you i say run with it and use it as often as is humanly possible.
sounds a little glum around this neck of the woods these days...everything ok?
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