Sublime

‘My love, you are a river fed by many streams. I bless all who have shaped you, The lovers whose delights still dance patterns on your back, Those who carved your channels deeper, broader, wider, Whitewater and backwater lovers, Swamp lovers, sun-warmed estuary lovers, Lovers with surface tension, Lovers like boulders, Like ice forming and

They say if you want something bad enough you’ll end up making a god out of it.

Every life she had tried so far since entering the library had really been someone else’s dream.

And they were familiar with death. In her small house Nóra could see that her neighbours were making room for sorrow in the way they knew to be best.

I release old habits and patterns. I discover new ways of thinking and being.

But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.