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“I did come out with two invaluable intimations. Talking to yourself can be useful. And writing means being overheard.”
― Intimations
― Intimations
“Remember the Simone de Beauvoir quote,” she said, “ ‘You can’t have everything you want but you can want everything you want.’ ”
― All Fours
― All Fours
“What you see is what you get," these women said about themselves. For me lying created just the right amount of problems and what you saw was just one of my four or five faces -- each real, each with different needs. The only dangerous lie was one that asked me to compress myself down into a single convenient entity that one person could understand. I was a kaleidoscope, each glittering piece of glass changing as I turned.”
― All Fours
― All Fours
“She had thought that when someone died, it would be like they went into a different room. She had not known that life itself transformed into a different room and trapped you in it without them.”
― Pure Colour
― Pure Colour
“The Gauze of Flowers, A Love Poem”
Remember when we couldn’t name it
because it was a meadow
wild with tulips, both bright
as snow and dull as fire?
Driving in circles to find
the right spot for our love, then
using a chair? My heart was still
an artichoke, layered and prickly
But you kept making me nest my face
in that one thick bouquet.
And just this morning my love
was briefly stuck in my throat
as I remember all the soil
and sadness, remembered seeing you
on certain streets and corners, remembered
all the rubble and clang. Remember
how it is and isn’t fragile?
How it speaks in ears and fingers
takes days and hours still
it wants nothing and it wants more?
And just this morning
the flowers you brought home drank
in the sunrise, they fleshed themselves out
the way people do, shaking
the cold from their collars
as they move toward the fire,
rubbing together their hands, kindling
it back. Some days
we want our love to be fleshy.
But some days it’s transparent.
It’s like gauze.
It is and isn’t fragile.
I dare you to name it.
I dare you to remember
the rubble and clang.”
― And Her Soul Out Of Nothing
Remember when we couldn’t name it
because it was a meadow
wild with tulips, both bright
as snow and dull as fire?
Driving in circles to find
the right spot for our love, then
using a chair? My heart was still
an artichoke, layered and prickly
But you kept making me nest my face
in that one thick bouquet.
And just this morning my love
was briefly stuck in my throat
as I remember all the soil
and sadness, remembered seeing you
on certain streets and corners, remembered
all the rubble and clang. Remember
how it is and isn’t fragile?
How it speaks in ears and fingers
takes days and hours still
it wants nothing and it wants more?
And just this morning
the flowers you brought home drank
in the sunrise, they fleshed themselves out
the way people do, shaking
the cold from their collars
as they move toward the fire,
rubbing together their hands, kindling
it back. Some days
we want our love to be fleshy.
But some days it’s transparent.
It’s like gauze.
It is and isn’t fragile.
I dare you to name it.
I dare you to remember
the rubble and clang.”
― And Her Soul Out Of Nothing
Morgan’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Morgan’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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Favorite Genres
Art, Contemporary, Ebooks, Fiction, Horror, Music, Mystery, Non-fiction, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Romance, Science fiction, Suspense, Spirituality, Thriller, and Young-adult
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