Tiffany Hickox

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Trolls by Brian F...
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Tales from the In...
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“At the point of waking, as at no other time, it is possible to hold dreams. And even then, it is only for a few seconds: the moment when you are awake enough to realize you are still asleep. And whatever dream is with you, for that one moment, becomes tangible. You are able to touch it, stroke it, like a tame animal asleep in your lap. And you can feel the softness of his fur and the gradualness of his movements as he wakes slowly, stretching each paw out in front of him, licking the darkness from his whiskers, before he leaps away from you, taking his warmth with him, and leaving his with you.”
Laura Gilpin, The Hocus-Pocus of the Universe
tags: dreams

Ada Limon
“World, turn all you want to,
faster even. I've come to like the way the breeze feels
as it rips me limb from limb.

and I'm running the city water now
in a sink safe from harm, and across
the surface of most states there's
a phone ringing and a somebody's lost a
somebody, and a somebody's come
home, and I'm unmoved in the kitchen
pulling wings out of my teeth, praying
for loads more wishes and a body
out there waiting for this somebody
in the kitchen waiting to be done stung.

You mis everyone. Even the people you read about today
you didn't know, their faces on the brain as if on paper.

Maybe you don't even say it for yourself,
maybe you move your mouth like everyone
moves their mouth. Maybe your mouth is the same
mouth as everyone's, all trying to say the same thing.

You come home on the train and you have
bought gifts and tried to be decent.”
Ada Limon, Sharks in the Rivers

Naomi Shihab Nye
“Last night I dreamed—blessed illusion—
that I had a beehive here
in my heart
and that the golden bees were making
white combs and sweet honey
from my old failures.

— Naomi Shihab Nye, Honeybee: Poems (HarperCollins, 2009)”
Naomi Shihab Nye, Honeybee: Poems and Short Prose

Michelle Cuevas
“She read about dreams made of sunlight and plums, and dreams made of ice; dreams that glowed in the dark, dreams made of unwound fingerprints, dreams that flew away like a lost kite string.”
Michelle Cuevas, The Dreamatics

Emilia Hart
“They were halfway across the road when a birdcall tugged her back, pulling at some strange, secret part of her. A crow, she thought, from its husky caw---she had already learned to recognize most of the birds that sang in her parents' garden, and crows were her favorite. There was something intelligent---almost human---about their sly voices and dark, luminous eyes.
Kate turned, scanning the trees that lined the road behind them. And there it was: a velvet flash of black, shocking against the lurid green and blue of the June day. A crow, just as she'd thought.”
Emilia Hart, Weyward

year in books
Michell...
780 books | 305 friends

Marissa
711 books | 16 friends

Amanda ...
248 books | 45 friends

Jen Cole
565 books | 28 friends

Ryan
898 books | 3 friends

MuzWot ...
1,322 books | 5,629 friends

J
J
5,380 books | 2,505 friends


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