[firstfullmoon]

“I would have said, then, it was torture to love someone you couldn’t save. But what did I know? How lucky it was–how lucky it always is–to love someone at all.”

— Danusha Laméris, from “Haunts,” The American Poetry Review (vol. 52, no.3, May/June 2023)

[softproserpina]

my beloved 1930s cabinet I found antiquing

[softproserpina]

— Haley Green, “From Nampa, ID to Rock Springs, WY,” EcoTheo Collective (April 2026)

[softproserpina]

— Haley Green, “From Nampa, ID to Rock Springs, WY,” EcoTheo Collective (April 2026)

[chelseamorninggirl]

Constant Montald, Ophelia, 1893.

[thedireful]

Clarice Lispector, from Selected Cronicas

[tendermimi]

journal excerpts from february

[tendermimi]

journal writing 28.02:

The worst has already happened. Now, the days lengthen into a new season. I am his from the bone onwards. He is rib of my rib. We are meat calling to meat. I desire so earnestly the alternative to fulfilling it would be to perish. All my life, once suffering, now this.

[maudeboggins]

Spirits of the Flowers

ceramic tiles from 1880

[vlindervin7]

perfect poem

[wovi]

*

czeslaw milosz / danusha laméris

[livesunique]

Lismore Castle, Lismore, County Waterford, Republic of Ireland,

Credit: Bill Phelps

[nathanielorion]

הבל | hevel

This is how it goes: God whispers in Cain’s jealous ear, drawing his attention to the Sin crouched at his doorway. Sin has haunted eyes and a mouth that has been kissed. Let there be no doubt that Sin has been kissed, with a wet-red mouth that may taste of blood or pomegranate or the electric crackle of a stoplight. Cain looks at Sin. He runs his tongue over his teeth.

This is how it goes: Cain leaves the house at one am in bare feet and a hoodie, careful to avoid the last stair that creaks, and treks out into the Field. There are many fields in the world but there is only one Field. Cain feels the difference in the grass when he crosses the border from field to Field, the way the grey-green blades stand up at attention in his wake, the way the dirt turns ice-cold and furious beneath his heels. The earth is good with foreshadowing. The tree of Knowledge has deep roots.

This is how it goes: God says, I will take you or your brother.

God says, You get to choose.

And Cain says, “When you split me and my brother in the womb, you did not divide us evenly. He got kindness, and I got longing. He got complacence, and I got ambition. I want to kill him sometimes. I think sometimes he wants to die.”

I have never made brothers before, God explains. That is how I thought they were made. What more do you want?

“I want to steal some of his kindness,” Cain says, and shakes his pocket knife out of his sleeve.

Back at home, Abel sits up in his bed with a start, heart racing. That was close, he thinks, that was a damn close one, and does not know why.

In the Field, the ground warms as blood seeps into the dirt. 

[seekingstars]

HOW’S THAT HOUSE THAT RAISED YOU? - Lev St. Valentine

[kindofpurple]

Daylight saving, by Grace Q. Song

Time to watch the geese return, while snow retreats to the corners of my backyard. Time to clean because I'm sick of keeping things and making them important. All winter I wanted something to change me. I wanted to turn into a gazelle and leap out of the drought of my body. Small and lost hour, you give everything a new reason. Save me anyway.

[sioltach]

YOU DID NOT COME INTO THIS WORLD. YOU CAME OUT OF IT, LIKE A WAVE FROM THE OCEAN. YOU ARE NOT A STRANGER HERE

[tendermimi]

admission after narcissus, published in recent issue of so to speak journal

[softproserpina]

— Haley Green, from “Canticle for Sanctity Forced Open,” The Hemlock Journal (December 2025)