Books.
the private library of what remains
There are books that do not merely wait to be read, but to be entered. Some carry the discipline of thought. Some preserve the atmosphere of another life. Some do not reveal themselves quickly, because what is precious rarely arrives all at once.
This is not a catalogue. It is a private library of pages, poems, criticism, memory, and quiet devotion.
I do not read to finish. I read to remain with what refuses to disappear.
slowly, inwardly, completelyWritten volumes.
Four private books from the archive, opened slowly, chapter by chapter, page by page.
No written volumes have been placed here yet.
Ten quiet poems.
Small rooms of language, kept apart from noise, each one opening into its own silence.
No poems have been placed here yet.
Books I adore reading.
There are places one returns to without deciding to. Not to keep up. Not to pass the time. But to remain a little longer where something has already taken its place.
No reading books have been placed here yet.