• ちはやぶる 神代も聞かず 竜田川からくれなるに 水 くくるとは。

(impassionate gods have never seen crimson that lies in the tatsuta river), hyakunin isshu: poem 17

• "it's not myself i hand over to you—that would be too simple—what i hand over to you is yourself, yourself loved in every part." from a to x: a story in letters, john berger
• "there are not two of us. each of us is alone." from no more/c'est tout, marguerite duras
• "i really like the ideia of love as a violent act—not to the person you love, but against the world. to say to somebody, 'i love you; by extension, i hate all other things." from an interview, hozier
• "did i survive? i guess i did. but only because i knew i might get home to you." from stone butch blues, leslie feinberg
• "what am i, if not yours? / what do i do with my hands when they are just hands?" from the lover as a cult, olivia gatwood
• "i had two longings and one was fighting the other. i wanted to be loved and i wanted to be always alone." from wide sargasso sea, jean rhys
• "strange sea of an intense blue, dangerous like love." from dublinesque, enrique vila-matas
• "i think i get so scared because i’m greedy — i want to hold onto everything, the world wants to take it away. the number of hours we have together is actually not so large. please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of just leaving. please forget your scarf in my life and come back later for it." from for m, mikko harvey
• "i have become the idea of a sea beast moving in the deep. i have become the labyrinth. i am entombed in poetry. in the first stanza, in the last, in the blueness of thirsting ink—in the bruising of eternity. i have become alone. i am alone." from under the sign of the labyrinth, christina tudor-sideri
• "your name seemed like a wonderful gift to me. it seems so still. i have carried it for a long time, the most precious thing i owned. i spoke it rarely, so that it would not become tainted by my surroundings. i kept it buried deep inside, and when i had nothing else to cling to, with a single whisper in the dark i would name you, careful not to be heard and in doing so, something of you would be restored to me, and something of myself would be saved.” from in the orchard, the swallows, peter hobbs
• "wherever there is music, she is too, / in the soft blue of the sky, in grecian verses, / in the mirror of water that flows from the fountain, / in the marble of time, in a sharpened sword, / in the serenity of an open terrace / that looks upon the gardens and the sunsets. / and behind all the myths and masks: her soul, which is always alone." from susana bombard, jorge luis borges
• "the night isn't dark; / the world is dark. / stay with me a little longer." from departure, poems 1962-2021, louise glück
• "i am disappearing so far into the dark / i have vanished from sight. / i am a tiny seashell / that has secretly drifted ashore / and carries the sound of the ocean / surging through its body. / i am so small now no one can see me. / how can i be filled with such a vast love?" from the widening sky, edward hirsch
• "just like the life / in which i’m forever a child looking out my window at the night sky / thinking one day i’ll touch the world with bare hands / even if it burns." from don't you wonder, sometimes?, tracy k. smith
• "the sea rises, the light fails, / lovers cling to each other, / and children cling to us. / the moment we cease to hold each other, / the moment we break faith with one another, / the sea engulfs us and the light goes out." from for nothing is fixed, james baldwin
• "sometimes i feel like an ampersand. i wake up waiting for the crush. maybe the body is the only question an answer can’t extinguish. how many kisses have we crushed to our lips in prayer—only to pick up the pieces? if you must know, the best way to understand a man is with your teeth. once, i swallowed the rain through a whole green thunderstorm. hours lying on my back, my girlhood open. the field everywhere beneath me. how sweet. that rain. how something that lives only to fall can be nothing but sweet. water whittled down to intention. intention into nourishment. everyone can forget us—as long as you remember." from immigrant haibun, ocean vuong
• "i said to you softly / your face tilting that way, i / wanted no more / than the little i wanted. i sad / to you softly / and spoke to you this way / drifting off easy / away from the shore." from block island, joshua beckman

“inside a room isolated / from the summer heat, / i feel bliss / upon hearing your words.” “will i ever turn / the corner and find you? / i can only wait for / a dream or a miracle." chihaya ayase, chihayafuru s02e25