Devin

“Sunlight pouring across your skin, your shadow
flat on the wall.
The dawn was breaking the bones of your heart like twigs.
You had not expected this,
the bedroom gone white, the astronomical light pummeling
you in a stream of fists.
You raised your hand to your face as if
to hide it, the pink fingers gone gold as the light
streamed straight to the bone,
as if you were the small room closed in glass
With every speck of dust illuminated.
The light is no mystery,
the mystery is that there is something to keep the light
From passing through.”
― Richard Siken, Crush

“I kept my mind on the moon.”
― Richard Siken, War of the Foxes

“Don't touch my skin, it is a text in the making.”
― Billy-Ray Belcourt, A History of My Brief Body

“Thinking through crip temporalities and futurities requires, then, a grappling with nostalgia, a recognition of the powerful role nostalgia plays in approaches to the body. Indeed, fears about longevity “under any circumstances”—fears of disability, in other words—are often bound up in a kind of compulsory nostalgia for the lost able mind/body, the nostalgic past mind/body that perhaps never was.”
― Alison Kafer, Feminist, Queer, Crip