When the white trees are no longer in sight they are telling us something, like the body that undresses when someone is around, like the woman who wants to read what her nude curves are trying to say, of what it was to be together, lips on lips but it's over now, the town we once loved in, the maps we once drew, the echoes that once passed through us as if they needed something we had.
From Love and Strange Horses, published by University of Pittsburgh Press. Copyright © 2011 by Nathalie Handal. Used by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.