Book

I am a city by the sea, sinking into a toxic tide. I am strange to myself, as though someone unknown had poisoned my mother as she carried me.
It’s here in all the pieces of my shame that now I find myself again. I yearn to belong to something, to be contained in an all-embracing mind that sees me as a single thing. I yearn to be held in the great hands of your heart – oh let them take me now.
Into them I place these fragments, my life, and you, God – spend them however you want. — Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours, Barrows and Macy, translators.