608 books
—
1,627 voters
to-read
(2873)
currently-reading (5)
read (2456)
dnf (13)
young-adult (712)
nonfictions (561)
historical-fiction (291)
fantasy (290)
memoir (290)
childrens-lit (217)
my-kindle (179)
1001-books (152)
currently-reading (5)
read (2456)
dnf (13)
young-adult (712)
nonfictions (561)
historical-fiction (291)
fantasy (290)
memoir (290)
childrens-lit (217)
my-kindle (179)
1001-books (152)
brit-lit
(140)
lgbt (125)
favorites (116)
eating-disordered (115)
crime-mystery-and-thriller (79)
read-for-class (76)
sci-fi (75)
comics-manga-graphic-novels (72)
retellings (65)
birbs (62)
true-crime (61)
ancient-world (57)
lgbt (125)
favorites (116)
eating-disordered (115)
crime-mystery-and-thriller (79)
read-for-class (76)
sci-fi (75)
comics-manga-graphic-novels (72)
retellings (65)
birbs (62)
true-crime (61)
ancient-world (57)
“You are a memory
too strong to leave this world...”
― The Darkness Around Us is Deep: Selected Poems
too strong to leave this world...”
― The Darkness Around Us is Deep: Selected Poems
“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we're reading doesn't wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.”
―
―
“If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry.”
―
―
“If death is this brilliant slide, this high, fine music felt as pure vibration, this plunging float in wind and silence, it's not so bad.”
―
―
“Song for the Last Act
Now that I have your face by heart, I look
Less at its features than its darkening frame
Where quince and melon, yellow as young flame,
Lie with quilled dahlias and the shepherd's crook.
Beyond, a garden. There, in insolent ease
The lead and marble figures watch the show
Of yet another summer loath to go
Although the scythes hang in the apple trees.
Now that I have your face by heart, I look.
Now that I have your voice by heart, I read
In the black chords upon a dulling page
Music that is not meant for music's cage,
Whose emblems mix with words that shake and bleed.
The staves are shuttled over with a stark
Unprinted silence. In a double dream
I must spell out the storm, the running stream.
The beat's too swift. The notes shift in the dark.
Now that I have your voice by heart, I read.
Now that I have your heart by heart, I see
The wharves with their great ships and architraves;
The rigging and the cargo and the slaves
On a strange beach under a broken sky.
O not departure, but a voyage done!
The bales stand on the stone; the anchor weeps
Its red rust downward, and the long vine creeps
Beside the salt herb, in the lengthening sun.
Now that I have your heart by heart, I see.”
― Collected Poems 1923-1953
Now that I have your face by heart, I look
Less at its features than its darkening frame
Where quince and melon, yellow as young flame,
Lie with quilled dahlias and the shepherd's crook.
Beyond, a garden. There, in insolent ease
The lead and marble figures watch the show
Of yet another summer loath to go
Although the scythes hang in the apple trees.
Now that I have your face by heart, I look.
Now that I have your voice by heart, I read
In the black chords upon a dulling page
Music that is not meant for music's cage,
Whose emblems mix with words that shake and bleed.
The staves are shuttled over with a stark
Unprinted silence. In a double dream
I must spell out the storm, the running stream.
The beat's too swift. The notes shift in the dark.
Now that I have your voice by heart, I read.
Now that I have your heart by heart, I see
The wharves with their great ships and architraves;
The rigging and the cargo and the slaves
On a strange beach under a broken sky.
O not departure, but a voyage done!
The bales stand on the stone; the anchor weeps
Its red rust downward, and the long vine creeps
Beside the salt herb, in the lengthening sun.
Now that I have your heart by heart, I see.”
― Collected Poems 1923-1953
Vaginal Fantasy Book Club
— 16263 members
— last activity Dec 31, 2025 05:29AM
Forum for the Vaginal Fantasy Book Club hosted by Felicia Day, Veronica Belmont, Kiala Kazebee and Bonnie Burton. From January 2012 to April 2018, the ...more
Erica’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Erica’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Erica
Lists liked by Erica






















































