Maia

“Black was the without eye
Black the within tongue
Black was the heart
Black the liver, black the lungs
Unable to suck in light
Black the blood in its loud tunnel
Black the bowels packed in furnace
Black too the muscles
Striving to pull out into the light
Black the nerves, black the brain
With its tombed visions
Black also the soul, the huge stammer
Of the cry that, swelling, could not
Pronounce its sun.”
― Ted Hughes, Crow: From the Life and Songs of the Crow

“I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways.”
― Rumi

“You were overloaded. I said nothing.
I said nothing. The stone man made soup.
The burning woman drank it.”
― Ted Hughes, Birthday Letters

“You solve it as you get older, when you reach the point where you've tasted so much that you can somehow sacrifice certain things more easily, and you have a more tolerant view of things like possessiveness (your own) and a broader acceptance of the pains and the losses.”
― Ted Hughes, Letters of Ted Hughes