My walls were a bit naked so I tried to think about putting up some photographs of friends and family. And then, just as usual, I felt observed. So I decorated one wall with a faux-collage instead. (I say ‘faux’ because nothing is actually ‘collé‘ (glued, in French), merely pinned together; so it’s kept openContinue reading “Faux-collage”
The warmth in my chest has its source in you (For you see)I have a you-shaped heart Who is the poet hereThe one who holds the pen?The one who makes it dance? The poet is the form we make when we embraceOur atoms meetingIn the most lovely way The poem is: The flavour of the dinner youContinue reading “Our poems”
‘I will not choose between the blue things of the world and the words that say them‘ (Maggie Nelson, Bluets, 2009) I’ve only read two of Maggie Nelson’s books, The Argonauts (2015) and Bluets (2009) – actually, I’m still reading the latter at the time of writing. One of the things that struck me isContinue reading “Words can be good enough”
The way I see it: less hair, more face. It’s exactly that. Since my hair has been maximum three millimetres long, I’ve felt more in contact with the world, more free, as if I was done being apologetic about myself, as if saying ‘hey, it’s me, *this* is me, no trap, no hiding, what youContinue reading “Less hair, more face”
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