“How is it the seasons change? Do they change so slowly so creepingly because we so rarely break away from whatever it was that we were dreaming to notice? What the season brings us to suffer (because seasons, no matter… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
Raw and delicate, poignant and poetic, Shelby Smoak’s Bleeder exposes the sorrow and sometimes sweetness of coming to age with HIV. In a world… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
“Let those strikes of lightning come so we will quickly know what leaves us.” — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
“But in those days, I thought that by believing in magic and miracles, by believing hard enough, harder than anyone on earth, I would… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
“It is not the story I know or the story you tell me that matters; it is what I already know, what I don't… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
“The experience of time translates itself into language, and language translates itself into distance, which translates itself into longing, which is the realization of… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
“It was the particular feel of him that made me want to go back: everything that is said is said underneath, where, if it… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
“I suppose we were merely on loan in each other's lives; these last years have already broken their secrets, have already gone out ahead… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
“How is it the seasons change? Do they change so slowly so creepingly because we so rarely break away from whatever it was that… — Jenny Boully Copy Share Image
