Ali Smith

How many worlds can you hold in a hand.

In a handful of sand.

To feel even just the thought of one’s own bared self near someone else’s beauty

Regrets when you’re dead? A past when you’re dead? Is there never any escaping the junkshop of the self?

The lifelong friends, he said. We sometimes wait a lifetime for them

Always be reading something, he said. Even when we’re not physically reading. How else will we read the world? Think of it as a constant.