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#prose collection
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Bilal Al-Shams, Sacrifice
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feral-ballad · 4 months
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Susan Abulhawa, from Against the Loveless World: A Novel
[Text ID: “I wanted to be chosen, maybe loved. I wanted out of my life, out of my skin,”]
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mournfulroses · 4 months
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Clarice Lispector, tr. by Giovanni Pontiero, from "The Foreign Legion: Stories and Chronicles,"
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wedarkacademia · 1 year
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lucidloving · 6 months
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@januaryhoney // @naynawrites on Instagram // @sunflorally // @geloyconcepcion on Instagram // @lucidloving // @petrichara
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moonstoast · 2 years
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letters to milena by franz kafka // camouflage by ron hicks // the golden notebook by doris lessing // ? // a letter to galatea kazantzaki by nikos kazantzakis
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ivynightshade · 12 days
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my body is a slaughterhouse for all the people who have tried to love me. / including myself.
fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘my body is a slaughterhouse’.
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heart-of-poetry · 4 months
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No, I don’t care that you’re messy and loud and sometimes annoying. I love you anyhow. Come over tonight. I will cook for you in the kitchen—it’s green tiles and the sun that peaks in through the windows. Come as you are. Leave your hair messy and your skin blank and your body cloaked in plain clothing. I find you most beautiful in that state—natural, beating, tender, alive. I will make us soup in my cleanest pot. It will be steaming and hot, but not too hot that it burns. I will love you enough for it to always keep you warm, but never in such a way that it hurts.
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fatimaamerbilal · 6 months
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fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s all the blood in my mouth screams devastatingly desperate, miserable girl.
[text id: i eat approval for dinner, and when not earned any, i go to bed hungry.]
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soracities · 2 years
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Because it is night, because I am alone in someone else's night, because this silence is too great for me, because I have two hands in order to sacrifice the better one and because I have no choice.
Clarice Lispector, from “The Foreign Legion”, Collected Stories (trans. Katarina Dodson)
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feral-ballad · 4 months
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Susan Abulhawa, from Against the Loveless World: A Novel
[Text ID: “I knew that, despite everything, I was loved. I was loved hard. At once and forever against the loveless world.”]
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mournfulroses · 3 months
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Clarice Lispector, tr. by Giovanni Pontiero, from "The Foreign Legion: Stories and Chronicles,"
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aboutbirds · 5 months
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One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind, In the sound of a few leaves, Which is the sound of the land Full of the same wind That is blowing in the same bare place For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
Wallace Stevens, "The Snow Man," from Collected Poetry and Prose
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mn-harper · 5 months
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you use sugar cookie shampoo,
I can smell it when you flip your hair in that casual not-flirty way. you offered me honey-oatmeal lotion when my hands were dry. my heart fluttered in my chest when your fingers brushed mine in the lone hours of the night, when I think about cookies, cakes, and cinnamon. I ask myself what your chap-stick tastes like.
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-harper
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