Mess

April 24, 2017

Be warned

April 24, 2017

Days I enjoy

April 23, 2017

Days I enjoy are days when nothing happens,
When I have no engagements written on my block,
When no one comes to disturb my inward peace,
When no one comes to take me away from myself
And turn me into a patchwork, a jig-saw puzzle,
A broken mirror that once gave a whole reflection,
Being so contrived that it takes too long a time
To get myself back to myself when they have gone.
The years are too strictly measured, and life too short
For me to afford such bits of myself to my friends.
And what have I to give my friends in the last resort?
An awkwardness, a shyness, and a scrap,
No thing that’s truly me, a bootless waste,
A waste of myself and them, for my life is mine
And theirs presumably theirs, and cannot touch.

Vita Sackville-West

Love

April 23, 2017

Glory Holes

April 23, 2017

The Napkin Trick

April 22, 2017

It’s been done before:
The need for conversation
starts and ends with a slow walk
around a familiar, short block—
the light purse or empty pocket.
(Tonight
after all
should only call for some cash.)
A set of doors is chosen
but not broached,
and reluctance comes as a reminder
of isolated drinks
where music from cars
(circling the block in search of a parking spot)
is forgotten
on the front and back
of a red paper napkin.

Ana Maria Caballero

meet a ghost

April 22, 2017

Most people have never seen a ghost, and never want or expect to, but almost everyone will admit that sometimes they have a sneaking feeling that they just possibly could meet a ghost if they weren’t careful―if they were to turn a corner too suddenly, perhaps, or open their eyes too soon when they wake up at night, or go into a dark room without hesitating first.

Shirley Jackson
Come along with me

Just for women

April 22, 2017