We cling to words like drowning men to straws. But still we drown, we drown.
There are things better left untouched by words. - Anna Kamienska
There are things better left untouched by words.
- Anna Kamienska
The way a source strains toward the light, toward the air. Its laboring work, its effort, its black passageways like despair. That’s the way a poet l… - Anna Kamienska
The way a source strains toward the light, toward the air. Its laboring work, its effort, its black passageways like despair. That’s the way a poet l…
I have no talent. I write poems for myself, to think things through, that’s all. - Anna Kamienska
I have no talent. I write poems for myself, to think things through, that’s all.
Tell me what's the difference - Anna Kamienska
Tell me what's the difference
Letters of the condemned. Last words scratched on a cell’s wall. To write like that. - Anna Kamienska
Letters of the condemned. Last words scratched on a cell’s wall. To write like that.
I am that which lies beyond time. Like a melody, which sounds completely only after the last note is played. - Anna Kamienska
I am that which lies beyond time. Like a melody, which sounds completely only after the last note is played.
I returned to confirm there can be no return. - Anna Kamienska
I returned to confirm there can be no return.
Even a painful longing is some form of presence. - Anna Kamienska
Even a painful longing is some form of presence.
I’ve learned to value failed conversations, missed connections, confusions. What remains is what’s unsaid, what’s underneath. Understanding on anothe… - Anna Kamienska
I’ve learned to value failed conversations, missed connections, confusions. What remains is what’s unsaid, what’s underneath. Understanding on anothe…
Login to join the discussion
Login to join the discussion