Cecilia Llompart, The Wingless Quotes

If Springtime crawls out of thewild mouths of flowers, thensurely, Winter crawls out of mine.

If the sun rolled back like an eye, it would see the mind of God.

There are boneswaiting for names in the graveyards.Even the sun above us is dying, onelanded repetition of light at a time.

Darkness moves like a pack of wild dogs.The wind moves like a wounded animal.The ground must be full of teeth by now.

Winter is already a lost shape, forgottenin the ground. Instead, here is Springwith all the grace of a womansmoothing out her apron.

Consider, O Lover, my throatwhite as cigarette paper.The crushed lavender of my knuckles. My heart, a dulled needle threaded throughtoo many patterns.

That dandy, the sky, enters blue-suitedsun like a scotch in hand.