Trees, for example, carry the memory of rainfall. In their rings we read ancient weather—storms, sunlight, and temperatures, the growing seasons of centuries. A forest shares a history, which each tree remembers even after it has been felled.
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There was no energy of a narrative in my family, not even the fervour of an elegy.
Anne MichaelsStichwörter: inspirational
Once I was lost in a forest. I was so afraid. My blood pounded in my chest and I knew my heart's strength would soon be exhausted. I saved myself without thinking. I grasped the two syllables closest to me, and replaced my heartbeat with your name.
Anne MichaelsStichwörter: love
I saved myself without thinking. I grasped the two syllables closest to me, and replaced my heartbeat with your name.
Anne MichaelsStichwörter: love
The shadow-past is shaped by everything that never happened. Invisible, it melts the present like rain through karst. A biography of longing. It steers us like magnetism, a spirit torque. This is how one becomes undone by a smell, a word, a place, the photo of a mountain of shoes. By love that closes its mouth before calling a name.
Anne MichaelsStichwörter: longing
Time is a blind guide.
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