"…Attribuez à mon souffle trop court ce qui dans mon propos restera obscur ou froid. Mais retenez la comparaison – elle définit le Livre en tant que Livre c’est-à-dire en tant qu’inspiration…" (E. Lévinas)
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Love as plotless ballet
It is raining wildly outside. All vulnerable animals have disappeared instantly through my open chest. It was bleeding in the morning when I left home. I could not avoid its worsening and I am bound to take the nowhere train in the electrified white margins of my texts.
I imagine I am waiting for the One and No-one shows up. There is no line in my texts unaware of such sour wine. I drink it over again. Abruptly. Eyes and veins lost, sine die. Subtle pan-nihilism cooling your hands. I remember them perspiring in the first day. I fear dreadfully you do not remember anything and I fear you are right. "Clouds pass and disagree." I do not know the art of the passage. Neither does love, labyrinth of ties.
I had roses, white roses from my mother's garden. I remember my father watering them and his whistling or singing. At a distance, I try desperately to read his lips. Rosa, rosae, rosam, rosae, rosa. And he smiles as a child at the roses. He knew they would have entangled lives.
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2 comments:
The plot thickens
The rain has quickened and chilled our skin. Vulnerable animals have wisely taken cover. Only a fool would bear her chest on a night like this.
I imagined I was waiting for the One, but Someone Else showed up. We shared sweet wine and danced by the reservoir. I will remember this dizziness after the wine has soured. 'It’s cloud illusions I’ll recall.'
My mother also had roses in her garden. In my madness I temporarily forget their thorns.
'I really don’t know clouds at all.'
Merci de ton passage si inspirateur!
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