— Nikita Gill

Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

Text ID: You give dreams to my night, songs to my morning, aims to my day, and sun-wishes to my red dusk. You give without end. And I kneel and hold my arms up to receive your grace.

John Martin - Pandemonium (1841)

Zehra Naqvi, from The Knot of My Tongue: Poems and Prose; “Dear Baba”

Maya C. Popa, from Wound is the Origin of Wonder: Poems: “All inner life runs at some delay”

— Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless (via aryasnow)

— Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

— Franz Kafka, from The Penal Colony: Stories; “A Hunger Artist,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

— Venetta Octavia, from “And I Will Raze You All to the Ground,” Prelude to Light

Jennifer S. Cheng, So We Must Meet Apart; “August 24, 2018”

— Alice Notley, from “I suppose this is all a lefthand path.”

[Text ID: “October, crisp, misty, golden October, when the light is sweet and heavy.”]

— Gottfried Benn, “Threat,” trans. Michael Hofmann, Poetry (March 2011)

woolgathering by patti smith

Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947