(Source: the-final-sentence)
Trying to remember you
is like carrying water
in my hands a long distance
across sand. Somewhere
people are waiting.
They have drunk nothing for days.—Stephen Dobyns, opening strophe to “Grief” in Velocities: New and Selected Poems, 1966-1992 (Penguin Books, 1994)
(via quote-book)
(via quote-book)
(Source: quote-book)