Be My Valentine
via outofabook
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It keeps coming back to that: what do I do with these hands? Let’s say the dead are watching us. What should we do with our hands? Let’s say that aliens are watching us. What should we do with our hands?
Richard Siken, “Black Telephone”
mouthy dreams with fishing
lines attached
such fierce hope in a hook
Rosmarie Waldrop, from “Kind Regards,” Gap Gardening: Selected Poems
(New Directions, 2016)
No one with me except the memory of your voice.
Hassan Najmi, from “The Violins,” The Blueness of the
Evening: Selected Poems of Hassan Najmi (University of Arkansas Press,
2018)
I love: waves, rocks, wasps,
with an oceanic and drunken happiness.
Pablo Neruda, tr. by Robert Bly, from “Letter to Miguel Otero Silva, in Caracas,”
I meant
skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you.
Kate Clancy, from “Perhaps Patagonia”