( via / me )

"All these versions tell the same core story, but no two of them seem able to agree on the details."

"Sonnet

The way the world is not
Astonished at you
It doesn't blink a leaf
When we step from the house
Leads me to think
That beauty is natural, unremarkable
And not to be spoken of
Except in the course of things
The course of singing and worksharing
The course of squeezes and neighbors
The course of you tying back your raving hair to go out
And the course of course of me
Astonished at you
The way the world is not."

--Bill Knott

These are the Plunderers. (via @chrislynnhedges)

"The more you write, the more you breathe life into another I, and little by little, the one who writes is no longer the one who has written—the text, once it becomes text-in-the-world, belongs to the other more than it belongs to you, though wholly to neither. A peculiar feeling." --@dreamsofbeing_

Another misty morning in Glastonbury.