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All posts from October 17, 2009
already our goodbyes to the full-leafed heat of summer, heavy and in its first violence. the low hum of fans; the awareness of skin after rain. the city at night, slick & alabaster. our forests lush and ruined, so rich in life that their flowers perish.
“new orleans is really haunting in a way that’s very difficult to understand unless you have been lucky enough in your life to have been immersed in it. it has this peculiar magic that i think is composed of the unbelievable cultural diversity, the heat, the traffic, the closeness of the cities, the distinctness of the plants and wildlife, but it’s something more than that too, like the constant ringing of a bell, or the looming sense of what comes next and how the ocean is often invisible but still kind of omnipresent and pressing. how people look after they enter it, and just before.”
Tonight your ghost will ask my ghost, who put these bodies between us?
- theobscureone: align (via merricat.)
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if you’re out on a moonlit night
be careful of them neighbourhood strays,
of a lady with long black hair tryin’ to win you
with her feminine ways …
img via thejewishmadonna:kari-shma: The Flower by lostinmyself.
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Rachel smelled like water. Wherever my aunt walked, there was the scent of fresh water. It was an impossible smell, green and delightful and in those dusty hills the smell of life and wealth. There were hopes, early on, that Rachel would be a water witch, one who could find hidden wells and underground streams. She did not fulfill that hope, but somehow the aroma of sweet water clung to her skin and lodged in her robes. Whenever one of the babies went missing, more often than not the little darling would be found fast asleep on her blankets, sucking his thumb.
- The Red Tent, Anita Diamant
