Hindsight Quotes

“you gave me an eternity, yet another one to fold up into a paper crane. each as different as a sunset. i’m starting to lose count.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“and i am reminded of dead embryos floating in sickly green juices inside glass jars, the ones with bulging eyes like toads, or mermaid’s tail feet, two heads instead of one. nonetheless, i crawl into my own skin, wrestling with and tackling the zipper, and then into bed. these heavy sheets i make a shallow pit inside of— clammy skin to cotton as i bask in this body’s warmth, doing my best as to not dream of the chair in the guest room.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“This is my version of rebellion. I fuel false courage and dance on top of the picnic table, inventing a better reason for my shortness of breath— I’m a ghost haunting this playground. A hollow thing with a dynamo light buried in its chest.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“after i have drawn back the storm i am as still as the ocean, the cacophony of the world drowned out with my head submerged in the memory of your laughter. the low tide leaves our backbone exposed. i dig my toes into the sand. i am safe here.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“orion’s belt is unbuckled and there we lie, between his ankles, where the archer meets capricorn; stretched across the front seats, knees pressed to the steering wheel and your head resting on my chest and foggy windows (a flawless snapshot)— it has never felt more like christmas. and if time is not linear, then i am yours forever.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“orion’s belt is unbuckled and there we lie, between his ankles, where the archer meets capricorn; stretched across the front seats, knees pressed to the steering wheel and your head resting on my chest and foggy windows (a flawless snapshot)— it has never felt more like christmas.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“we are veiled by darkness. we owe none of our parts to the world these pages will feel no hungry hands reach to tease their corners, no widened eyes will scour these lines, these words will be faced with none other than the ones that wrote them.]”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“i look for traces of you in the dead grass. the rowanberry. the shriveled up branches reaching out from the cadaver trees. i look for traces of you in the pale skies. the spotless pavement. the turning corners. i find none.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“fists on the steering wheel and bitter laughter at the cruel mime being played on the radio. setting sun colors you flamingo. your eyes scream defeat. i ugly-sob into your shoulder like an actress doing the most on the stage, and the stage is a funeral. are we burying this too soon? thank god we didn’t go to pearl street.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“cracked skull like watermelon shells dripping on the pavement. i reach into your pomegranate brain, harvesting the bittersweet seeds. acrid juice stings your eyes, turning them bloodshot.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“She told me that when her mother passed, she could feel her soul take up the whole room; as clarion and all-consuming as the sky. This time around, it felt like something she could fold and put inside her pocket.”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection

“but I keep searching my heart for spare change, and if pain is not the price of love, then what is?”
― Sofiya Ivanova, Hindsight: a poetry collection