“Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
we're inconsolable.
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we’ll never get used to it.”
― Crush
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
we're inconsolable.
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we’ll never get used to it.”
― Crush
“All night I streched my arms across
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone ''Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces.'' Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.”
― Crush
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone ''Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces.'' Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.”
― Crush
“I tried on Claire's double strand of pearls in the mirror, ran the smooth, lustrous beads through my fingers, touched the coral rose of the clasp. The pearls weren't really white, they were a warm oyster beige, with little knots in between so if they broke, you only lost one. I wished my life could be like that, knotted up so that even if something broke, the whole thing wouldn't come apart.”
― White Oleander
― White Oleander
“Minun piti olla pieni ja sinun piti olla isompi kuin taivas.
Entä jos minulla on ongelma käsieni kanssa, entä jos ne eivät osaa tehdä muuta kuin kuristaa?
Sinä olet isompi kuin koko avaruus.
Entä jos minä en osaa pitää sinusta huolta? Entä jos pudotan sinut hevosemme selästä ja menet rikki?
Minä en halua, että sinä menet rikki.
Tiedän, että olen sanonut tuhannet kerrat korvaavani sinulle vielä kaiken.
En kai vain ikinä odottanut, että minulle tulisi siihen tilaisuutta.
Ei taivasta voi korjata.
Olet tuhannet kerrat vastannut minulle, ettei ole mitään korvattavaa.
Luotin sanoihisi ja ajattelin, ettei mikään sinussa voi mennä rikki.
Mutta minä kuulen, kuinka sinä itket. Ravintolan vessassa, suurissa joukoissa, perunoita pestessäsi, yöllä nukkuessasi.
Miksi sinä itket Kissasisko? Onko jokin mennyt rikki?”
―
Entä jos minulla on ongelma käsieni kanssa, entä jos ne eivät osaa tehdä muuta kuin kuristaa?
Sinä olet isompi kuin koko avaruus.
Entä jos minä en osaa pitää sinusta huolta? Entä jos pudotan sinut hevosemme selästä ja menet rikki?
Minä en halua, että sinä menet rikki.
Tiedän, että olen sanonut tuhannet kerrat korvaavani sinulle vielä kaiken.
En kai vain ikinä odottanut, että minulle tulisi siihen tilaisuutta.
Ei taivasta voi korjata.
Olet tuhannet kerrat vastannut minulle, ettei ole mitään korvattavaa.
Luotin sanoihisi ja ajattelin, ettei mikään sinussa voi mennä rikki.
Mutta minä kuulen, kuinka sinä itket. Ravintolan vessassa, suurissa joukoissa, perunoita pestessäsi, yöllä nukkuessasi.
Miksi sinä itket Kissasisko? Onko jokin mennyt rikki?”
―
“Wearing your clothes or standing in the shower for over an hour, pretending
that this skin is your skin, these hands your hands,
these shins, these soapy flanks”
― Crush
that this skin is your skin, these hands your hands,
these shins, these soapy flanks”
― Crush
Agarina’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Agarina’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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