grief – Page 3 – Little Bristling Soul

Jacques-Louis David, Andromache Mourning Hector, 1783

Arnold Böcklin’s Mary Magdalena Mourning At The Corpse Of Christ (1867)

Mount Eerie: “Forest Fire”

The night isn’t dark; the world is dark.
Stay with me a little longer.

Your hands on the back of the chair—
that’s what I’ll remember.
Before that, lightly stroking my shoulders.
Like a man training himself to avoid the heart.

[…] you are holding me because you are going away—
these are statements you are making,
not questions needing answers.

How can I know you love me
unless I see you grieve over me?

Louise Glück, from Departure (via nemophilies)

Laura Kasischke

from karen green’s bough down

Susan Howe, from That This

sophie calle from exquisite pain

Fresh flowers may not be a good idea around the house. Lilies fester. People die in your heart. Everyone looks younger than, even the ancient Quakers at the meeting house. I am alone, but sometimes a goddess brings soup. […] The rooms unfurnish themselves. Please don’t look over there. Everyone gathers, everyone drives off, what remains remain remains.

Karen Green, Bough Down

Anne Carson, Nox

Felix Gonzalez-Torres, “Untitled” (Orpheus, Twice)