Come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again–
— Christina Rossetti, from ‘Echo’ (via soracities) 
What the dead leave behind is a personal archaeology. There’s some history in that, a memory of an absence that lasts longer than a day and a night, an absence that lasts many days and nights, days and nights. Their fingerprints on the doorknobs, their fingerprints on those little things like a watch that can tell you the time but can’t tell you when her time was up, when her heart stopped — what time it was when it didn’t matter anymore what time it was.
— Dunya Mikhail, “When War Destroyed My Grandmother’s Grave”, pub. on LitHub (via soracities)
“My favorite means of communication is otherworldly: dreams—meeting in dreams.”— Marina Tsvetaeva, from a letter to Boris Pasternak , (A Russian Psyche: The Poetic Mind of Marina Tsvetaeva)
