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𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔨 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡𝔰

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Jenny Bloomfield. Cats in the Meadow.

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His knowledge of the world was extraordinary and deep; he was himself an extraordinary and deep world.

— from Milena Jesenská's Obituary for Franz Kafka

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dadu shin

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warmth of the sun, ron hicks | from a letter to milena, franz kafka

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a love letter to myself

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Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals

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Claude Monet, Gardens

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tree by jane hirshfield

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— James Baldwin, from If Beale Street Could Talk

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Mahmoud Darwish, tr. by A.M. El Messeri, from The Palestinian Wedding: A Bilingual Anthology of Contemporary Palestinian Resistance Poetry; "A Lover from Palestine"

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We've been holding hands since the beginning of time—Gilgamesh and Enkidu do it in the Epic of Gilgamesh. Thinking about this and the role that sleep plays in the epic. The gods flooded the world because the chatter of mankind interrupted their sleep. Gilgamesh and Enkidu sleep by each other's side every night and comfort each other after their prophetic nightmares. When Enkidu dies, Gilgamesh says, "Now what sleep is it that has seized you?" And Gilgamesh's final trial in his solitary, grief-stricken search for immortality is to stay awake for one week, which he ultimately fails.

Anyway there's probably something to unpack there.

Clarice Lispector, The Passion According to G.H.

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The Swan, Mary Oliver

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we could sit together and do nothing all day— i'd still be the happiest