Xan

“Ars Poetica"

If you dissect the poem, this is what you will find: a handful of broken glass, salt bedding routes into our cheeks. If you crack an egg, something spills. The rabbit is limp & yet, the moon continues to glow. The rabbit is limp & yet, here I am, mouth stupid and dry. Palm of river & yellow yolk. Skin deep as plums, tender & smooth. A cartographer composed entirely of incidental histories. Thin slices of lemon. Pink belly & dive. When we must, we learn what we are capable of.”
― Yasmin Belkhyr

“Perhaps he makes a choice. He chooses the memory of her. That’s why he turns. He doesn’t make the lover’s choice, but the poet’s.”
― Céline Sciamma, Portrait of a Lady on Fire

“Not everything in the heart can be said, so god created sighs, tears, long sleep, cold smile and shivering hands.”
― Nizar Qabbani

“Ever since I found out that earthworms have taste buds all over the delicate pink strings of their bodies, I pause dropping apple peels into the compost bin, imagine the dark, writhing ecstasy, the sweetness of apples permeating their pores. I offer beets and parsley, avocado, and melon, the feathery tops of carrots.

I'd always thought theirs a menial life, eyeless and hidden, almost vulgar - though now, it seems, they bear a pleasure so sublime, so decadent, I want to contribute however I can, forgetting, a moment, my place on the menu.”
― Danusha Laméris