July 2011
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she undresses in the paradise
of her memory
she’s unaware of her visions’
fierce fate
she’s scared of not knowing how to name
what does not exist
Alejandra Pizarnik
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I imagine a line, a white line, painted on the sand and on the ocean, from me to you.
- Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
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When I looked at you, my life made sense. Even the bad things made sense. They were necessary to make you possible.
- Jonathan Safran Foer
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Poem
I heard of a man
who says words so beautifully
that if he only speaks their name
women give themselves to him.
Leonard Cohen, from “Let Us Compare Mythologies”
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