Kate Clanchy

I've been meaning to write you. We both know that a lot of things need to be said. I am having a hard time wading through them, these conversations in my head. The one where we argue until past midnight

One last thing - Raspberries Kate Clanchy The way we can't remember heat, forget the sweat and how we wore a weightless shirt on chafing skin, the way we lose the taste of raspberries, each winter; but know at once, come sharp July, the vein burning in the

And it isn't easy, you know, to not think. To not think of you. And of course, the proverbial what-might-have-been. This is the year we were supposed to get married, or have you forgotten. But of course you did. Of course

I feel a mixture of sadness and happiness, for reasons I cannot quite explain. There is that heavy feeling I can't name, sitting quietly inside my chest. I have said to myself, the other night, how I could've been so

Glenn Gould is playing Mozart's Piano Sonata No. 11 in A major ('Alla Turca'). It's almost 3AM. I have a lot of stuff to write but find myself walking around in my room, wishing for a cigarette, thinking about a