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“I know a girl from whose body sunbeams rose to the clouds as if they’d fallen from the sun.
Her laugh was like a bangle of bells.
“Your hair is wet,” I told her one day, “Did you take a bath?”
“It is dew!” she laughed, “I’ve been lying in the grass. All morning long, I lay here waiting for the dawn.”
―
Her laugh was like a bangle of bells.
“Your hair is wet,” I told her one day, “Did you take a bath?”
“It is dew!” she laughed, “I’ve been lying in the grass. All morning long, I lay here waiting for the dawn.”
―
“Then he said, leaning forward: ‘You’re strange animals, you women intellectuals. Tell me: what’s it like to be a woman?’ I took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him dead. ‘It’s like that,’ I said.”
― On Strike Against God
― On Strike Against God
“Girls love each other like animals. There is something ferocious and unself-conscious about it. We don't guard ourselves like we do with boys. No one trains us to shield our hearts from each other. With girls, it's total vulnerability from the beginning. Our skin is bare and soft. We love with claws and teeth and the blood is just proof of how much. It's feral.
And it's relentless.”
― Black Iris
And it's relentless.”
― Black Iris
“If you put the wrong foods in your body, you are contaminated and dirty and your stomach swells. Then the voice says, Why did you do that? Don't you know better? Ugly and wicked, you are disgusting to me.”
― Feeling for Bones
― Feeling for Bones
“I once had a love who folded secrets between her thighs like napkins
and concealed memories in the valley of her breasts.
There was no match for the freckles on her chest,
and no one could mistake them for a field of honeysuckles.
Upon her lips, a thousand lies were spread in sweet gloss.
Her kiss was like a storybook from ancient history.
She was at home with the body of a man inside her, beside her.
At night, when she lay in bed crying,
no one could mistake the tears she wept for a summer shower
She is gone, my love. She was a wanderess, a wildflower.”
―
and concealed memories in the valley of her breasts.
There was no match for the freckles on her chest,
and no one could mistake them for a field of honeysuckles.
Upon her lips, a thousand lies were spread in sweet gloss.
Her kiss was like a storybook from ancient history.
She was at home with the body of a man inside her, beside her.
At night, when she lay in bed crying,
no one could mistake the tears she wept for a summer shower
She is gone, my love. She was a wanderess, a wildflower.”
―
katie’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at katie’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
609 books
|
94 friends
1,616 books
|
232 friends
413 books
|
124 friends
746 books
|
82 friends
627 books
|
20 friends
617 books
|
67 friends
207 books
|
146 friends
0 books
|
6 friends
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