The dead leave us starving with mouths full of love. -Anne Michaels (and there's another excerpt from the same poem and I might as well share: "I've pulled stones from the earth's black pockets, / felt the weight of their weariness . . . / I have nothing to give you, nothing to carry, / some words to make me less afraid, to say / you gave me this. . . . / Nothing to carry, / some stones to fill our pockets, / to give weight to what we have.")

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