And I saw it didn’t matterwho had loved me or who I loved. I was alone.The black oily asphalt, the slick beautyof the Iranian attendant, the thickeningclouds–nothing was mine. And I understoodfinally, after a semester of philosophy,a thousand books of poetry, after deathand childbirth and the startled cries of menwho called out my name as they entered me,I finally believed I was alone, felt itin my actual, visceral heart, heard it echolike a thin bell. ― Dorianne Laux

And I saw it didn’t matterwho had loved me or who I loved. I was alone.The black oily asphalt, the slick beautyof the Iranian attendant, the thickeningclouds–nothing was mine. And I understoodfinally, after a semester of philosophy,a thousand books of poetry, after deathand childbirth and the startled cries of menwho called out my name as they entered me,I finally believed I was alone, felt itin my actual, visceral heart, heard it echolike a thin bell.
― Dorianne Laux

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