Sublime
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His steps were softer than my own, like one who’d hesitate before a door afraid to knock,
Helen Mort • A Pint for the Ghost
Poetry knows the spaces of transition; it traverses and expands them. Poems live in uncertainty.
Mike Kauschke • The Poetic Art of Living in a Time Between Worlds - Emerge
Before they joined the motorway she took out the poems. In the dark wake of your footsteps, my love, my love. ‘They never found his grave,’ she said. See how the hyacinths line my banks! I will leave my mouth between your legs, my soul in photographs and lilies. She would have preferred Granada. She would have liked to find the mountain road near A
... See moreMary Costello • Barcelona
Hers is a heaviness that soothes.
Cole Arthur Riley • This Here Flesh: Spirituality, Liberation, and the Stories That Make Us
Good Bones
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