When I contemplate the physical spaces that articulate the letters 'I love you' in a written text, I may be led to think about other spaces, for exam… - Anne Carson

I prayed and fasted. I read the mystics. I studied the martyrs. I began to think I was someone thirsting for God.

My brother once showed me a piece of quartz that contained, he said, some trapped water older than all the seas in our world. He held it up to my ear. ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘life and no escape.

In myth, women's boundaries are pliant, porous, mutable. Her power to control them is inadequate, her concern for them unreliable. Deformation attends her. She swells, she shrinks, she leaks, she is penetrated, she suffers metamorphoses. The women of mythology regularly lose their form in monstrosity.