“The life spills over, some days. She cannot be at rest, Wishes she could explode Like that red tree— The one that bursts into fire All this week. Senses her infinite smallness But can’t seize it, Recognizes the folly of… — Alicia Ostriker Copy Share Image
What is laid down, ordered, factual is never enough to embrace the whole truth: life always spills over the rim of every cup. — Boris Pasternak Copy Share Image
