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“I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room
where everyone finally gets what they want.
You said Tell me about your books, your visions made
of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is
the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you
there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar
cube…We were in the gold room where everyone
finally gets what they want, so I said What do you
want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I am
leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome
burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,
my silent night, just mash your lips against me.
We are all going forward. None of us are going back.”
―
where everyone finally gets what they want.
You said Tell me about your books, your visions made
of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is
the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you
there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar
cube…We were in the gold room where everyone
finally gets what they want, so I said What do you
want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I am
leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome
burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,
my silent night, just mash your lips against me.
We are all going forward. None of us are going back.”
―
“You, yesterday’s boy,
to whom confusion came:
Listen, lest you forget who you are.
It was not pleasure you fell into. It was joy.
You were called to be bridegroom,
though the bride coming toward you is your shame.
What chose you is the great desire.
Now all flesh bares itself to you.
On pious images pale cheeks
blush with a strange fire.
Your senses uncoil like snakes
awakened by the beat of the tambourine.
Then suddenly you’re left all alone
with your body that can’t love you
and your will that can’t save you.
But now, like a whispering in dark streets,
rumors of God run through your dark blood.”
― Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
to whom confusion came:
Listen, lest you forget who you are.
It was not pleasure you fell into. It was joy.
You were called to be bridegroom,
though the bride coming toward you is your shame.
What chose you is the great desire.
Now all flesh bares itself to you.
On pious images pale cheeks
blush with a strange fire.
Your senses uncoil like snakes
awakened by the beat of the tambourine.
Then suddenly you’re left all alone
with your body that can’t love you
and your will that can’t save you.
But now, like a whispering in dark streets,
rumors of God run through your dark blood.”
― Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
“I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”
― Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
― Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
“I love you and I always will and I am sorry. What a useless word.”
― The Garden of Eden
― The Garden of Eden
“I wanted to know how it was going to turn out, like flipping ahead in a book. I didn't even know what kind of story it was, or what kind of role I was supposed to be playing. Which of us was taking it more seriously? Didn't that have to be me, because I was younger, and also because I was the girl? One the other hand, I thought that there was a way in which I was lighter than he was - that there was a serious heaviness about him that was foreign to me, and that I rejected.”
― The Idiot
― The Idiot
Claire’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Claire’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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