#tarfia faizullah

[cache-e]

“I worry that my friends will misunderstand my silence as a lack of love, or interest, instead of a tent city built for my own mind.”

Tarfia Faizullah, from "Poem Full of Worry Ending with My Birth," published in Poem-a-Day

[geryone]

Registers of Illuminated Villages, Tarfia Faizullah

[holesss]

Molly Brodak // Anne Carson // Tarfia Faizullah // Emily Dickinson // Blythe Baird // Denise Levertov

[lillyli-74]

Somewhere in this insomniac night my life is beginning without me.

~Tarfia Faizullah

[firstfullmoon]

[solvaaya]

The Poem You’ve Been Waiting For by Tarfia Faizullah. Text ID under cut.

[Text ID: You’re always driving so far from me towards the me I worry, without you, is eternity. I lay there,

awake, keeping watch while you snored. I waited, as I always seem to, for you

to wake up and come back to me.]

[mothervvoid]

THIS WILL ALWAYS BE YOUR FATHER’S HOUSE.

Co-Star // @flood-of-shadow // sharp objects - gillian flynn // @flood-of-shadow // the doors of trinity - tarfia faizullah // carnivore - starset // anne carson // @flood-of-shadow // the unabridged journals of sylvia plath - sylvia plath 

[tinkercreek]

Tarfia Faizullah from Register of Illuminated Villages (Graywolf, 2018)

Great Material There were the blue-tied garbage bags bulging with her dresses. Then, the buzz of junebugs on nights I sat on the roof alone and asked where my sister was until I felt stupid

and stopped. What do you say to the dead? How can we rejoin them when we fall apart in the safety net below? Does she know her friends Lauren and Cameron played

house after she died, set a place for her at a play dinner table? As though she might stop by for a few bites of air from empty plates with spoons empty

of her short seven years on this planet . . . it unbottles me, how precisely they lamented her. What great material, the conference well-wisher said. Can’t wait to read that poem.

Here it is then, now. The crinkle of your laughter. The beetles pouring into your eyes as we toast you.