配图 / Sergey Neamoscou

配图 / Sergey Neamoscou First Time Brushing Teeth Next to You When I say first time, that implies there will be a second, a fourth, a ninety-ninth. From far away our teeth must look like Tic Tacs, Chiclets, moons of a faraway planet. Nocturnal animals can smell better at night because scent lingers when the air is still, and so I smell the mint of our mouths but also the spill of peppers from the salsa dropped on your shirt. The greasy sidewalks we walked an hour earlier. Hotel soap freshly bubbled and wet in the dish. When I root through the thicket or the brush pile, my fur turns electric striped and tail-tumbled. I foam at the mouth. The mask on my face means bandit. Turns out I love the dark. My little paws want to grab everything and wash it. Aimee Nezhukumatathil #诗歌

配图 / Living Mountain

配图 / Living Mountain POEM Day and night come hand in hand like a boy and a girl pausing only to eat wild berries out of a dish painted with pictures of birds. They climb the high ice-covered mountain, then they fly away. But you and I don’t do such things We climb the same mountain; I say a prayer for the wind to lift us but it does no good; you hide your head so as not to see the end Downward and downward and downward and downward is where the wind is taking us; I try to comfort you but words are not the answer; I sing to you as mother sang to me Your eyes are closed. We pass the boy and girl we saw at the beginning; now they are standing on a wooden bridge; I can see their house behind them; How fast you go they call to us, but no, the wind is in our ears, that is what we hear And then we are simply falling And the world goes by, all the worlds, each more beautiful than the last; I touch your cheek to protect you Louise Glück #诗歌

配图 / Magnus

配图 / Magnus Beirut, My Birthmark Beirut, my birthmark What came with you, Beirut？ Bullets before my mother's milk Beirut, you are under my skin, split bit by bit You melt into sunset on blistered rooftops It hurts to touch you, Beirut You are a lesson I will never learn It hurts to love you, Beirut But I still knock at your door at 4:00 a.m. With the neon lights in your neighborhood are dwindling when the political chants in your square are soothed I will stay outside your door I know you will never open for me Beirut, I kissed your cracked sidewalks And slept huddled against your bullet ridden walls You and I, it's a love story for the books Dima Mikayel Matta #诗歌

The Suicide

The Suicide I jump from a building As if I were falling asleep, The wind like a pillow Slowing me down, Slowing me down, As if I were dreaming. Surrounded by air, I come to a stop, And stand back like a tourist Watching the pigeons. People in offices, Wanting to save me, Open their mouths. “Throw me a stone,” I yell, Wanting to fall. But nobody listens. They throw me a rope. And now I am walking, Talking to you, Talking to you As if I were dreaming I were alive Mark Strand #诗歌

真的没必要在意别人怎么看你，在喜欢你的人眼里，你怎么样都是可爱的，是不需要你刻意讨好，不需要你努力假装的那种可爱，就踏踏实实做好

真的没必要在意别人怎么看你，在喜欢你的人眼里，你怎么样都是可爱的，是不需要你刻意讨好，不需要你努力假装的那种可爱，就踏踏实实做好你自己，一定会有人这样爱着你 There is really no need to care what others think of you. In the eyes of people who like you, you are cute in any way. You don't need to please deliberately, and you don't need to pretend to be cute. Just be yourself, and someone will love you like this. #

配图 / Shinkiru

配图 / Shinkiru Poem Not to Be Read at Your Wedding You ask me for a poem about love in place of a wedding present, trying to save me money.For three nights I’ve lain under glow-in-the-dark stars I’ve stuck to the ceiling over my bed.I’ve listened to the songs of the galaxy.Well, Carmen, I would rather give you your third set of steak knives than tell you what I know.Let me find you some other, store-bought present.Don’t make me warn you of stars, how they see us from that distance as miniature and breakable from the bride who tops the wedding cake to the Mary on Pinto dashboards holding her ripe, red heart in her hands. Beth Ann Fennelly #诗歌