Palimpsest erases but narrative thrives, cinching in its thawed vintage serifs text still damp with referenced yonder. And lacy. So lacy this off-Baedeker of Victoriana, this text-tease, this curious romantic limbo embellished with doors and doors ajar on a story—no, a source—a source so Giacometti-thin it must be entered from all exits. Antsy and adrift, Darling’s fifth collection, “not a physical body, but rather, the loved one's more ethereal qualities,” is grainy with ghosts the size of teacups, or teacups the size of ghosts. And the way a whole story can fit into, say, a teacup poured with candy hearts. I am drinking from that teacup right now. ---Kim Gek Lin Short