What do you think?
Rate this book


208 pages, Hardcover
First published March 24, 2026
“I love women talking to each other. I love women reading each other, through letters and journals and flowers, offering up the stories of themselves to each other's tender scrutiny. I love women being friends and being lovers, in all of their shapes, across the breadth and depth of their lives.”
“Why shouldn't shoes help their wearers travel? Perhaps, she thinks, what's strange is the shoes women are made to wear: shoes of glass; shoes of paper; shoes of iron heated red-hot; shoes to dance to death in.”
“She wonders at how change comes in like a thief in the night, dismantling our sense of self one bolt and screw at a time until all that's left of the person we think we are is a broken door hanging off a rusty hinge, waiting for us to walk through.”
“We fall as cinders, scattered on the wind. We fall as leaves, a bruising brightness—and lightly on foreign shores, foreign ports, foreign parts. Our shapes unseamed, our mouths untongued, we swallow our burning into new bodies. We break space around our hearts, keep our memories nestled in the hollows of bones built from the outside in.”
“as if a single word in any language
could hold all this wrecking grief.”
“I have in me the hearts of great ships, the bones of cathedrals. I have in me the sharpness of claws.”
“I wrote this for you, for only you, for you alone out of the millions.”