Photography

The sheets still
in the bed where I knew you.

The formula for landscape
is one-third sky two-thirds land:

the lumber-wanting forest
turns itself carnal.

In the love scene
the cool breath of bed sheets lifts

and my heart is a muscular door stop
shifting under your hand,

the sheets remaking me.
Through the door

the unstopped night
will come. The bed

soon inclement and bleached with snow
will still. While reading

I will concentrate on the falling asleep
I must do. My body

is a tunnel I hide in whenever the sky
turns particular.

You buy clothes to wear
that have never touched the skin

of other men. I take
a picture about it.

By RICHARD FOX
Date Unknown

A poem, by Curtis Tuckey

The smog that hides the stars above,
The gun that shoots the flying dove,
The piercing knife and strangling glove:
These are the lasting emblems of
Your love.

Date Unknown

An excerpt from the book "Naive. Super" by Erlend Loe

-

"Walking a dog in the streets of New York is absurd. But it gives me perspective. Lots of it. I'm so far away from home. In a big city. All the people. And I am only one. The only thing I can be sure of at any given time is what I am thinking myself. I have no idea what the others are thinking. Do they think space is big and dangerous? I do. What do they believe in? I think nobody ought to be alone. That one should be with someone. With friends. With the person one loves. I think it is important to love. I think it is the most important thing."

Translated from the Norwegian.