I stumbled upon this gem of a word wizard last year. She writes and I feel it. She rants and I wrestle. We’ve established, I believe, that while I enjoy beautiful, serene and romantic words – like any other aging woman with scarred hands, I have a deep and abiding affection for raw, gut-punching, and sometimes dark streams of consciousness bled onto pieces of pressed trees. This is one of my favorites of Mie’s.
“Late evening, pensively I linger
Beneath the mild-lit chandelier
He says to me, why you are not happy?
I say, boy, you do not understand.
No, but please tell me, he continues,
Why do you feed your sadness fame?
So I tell him, beneath the mild-lit chandelier,
Because some joys thrive best in pain.”
—Mie Hansson, born 1990.