“Your heart,” he says, planting a needle on a point between her brows, “beats too fast. Too strong. Works too hard.” More needles. Side of her neck, her throat, her shins, her feet, on her back. Immobilized by the needles, she wants to tell him This heart has always chosen its own pace, won’t slow for anyone’s sake, not even its own. Makes its own rules as hearts have done these ages now, maybe till all time.Quite beyond reason,
Adrienne Rich | Women My three sisters are sitting on rocks of black obsidian. For the first time, in this light, I can see who they are. My first sister is sewing her costume for the procession. She is going as the Transparent lady and all her nerves will be visible. My second sister is also sewing, at the seam over her heart which has never healed entirely,
Ho Xuan Huong | The Jackfruit I am like a jackfruit on the tree. To taste you must plug me quick, while fresh: the skin rough, the pulp thick, yes, but oh, I warn you against touching— the rich juice will gush and stain your hands *** Ho Xuan Huong | On Sharing a Husband Screw the fate that makes you share a man. One cuddles under cotton blankets; the other’s cold. Every now and then, well, maybe or maybe not. Once or twice a month, oh, it’s like nothing.
“Daghan lagig basura sa ubos,” I tried to sound as friendly as I could to the entrance fee collector upon handing out a twenty-peso bill. Disposals were discarded in the river and found their way between boulders. No trash cans or sacks in sight. In many cases, the LGU never wavers in collecting entrance fees without delivering the service. “Naa diay,