Difficulty in
understanding things that are evident. Evidence
of relation: head, shoulders, knees and toes. “I can just SEE their
father and mother” is the
moment of my erasure. The painting in that living room is
of a girl
on a bed. Her arm thrown over
her head, we cannot see her face.
She has hidden her inheritance from us, abstracted herself as
feeling. Despair is an orange stroke on the sheets. It only
self-resembles. To differ is
to move, to refuse the frames. The scene of non-recognition proves less popular than reunion of
mother and child. My mother didn't know me;
she was Milarepa's pot.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment