(no subject)

I have always never given up secretly, inside.  I have inestimable faith in my good fortune and natural ability to find a way, sooner or later. 

I have never given up before...I simply leave things alone for the moment and return to them, but not give up.  But yesterday I did.  D knows why, he knows that this situation lies like an elephant in the room and we tiptoe around it.  I think I'd just had enough of bashing my head against everything.  It was a good thing, like falling down into a cavern and splashing into an icy river before clambering out and climbing back slowly, arduously back up again, thankful to be alive. 



I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

(Rainer Maria Rilke)

For memory's sake

By the sea the girl sits with one hand on her stomach and the other on the chest of her lover.

Further down the beach the fishermen are drinking and ogling the young girls who bathe in the ocean in their bras and panties.

The lifeguards sit in their yellow shorts and red vests and scan the water, chatting with people who perch beneath their towers.

By the sea the girl arches so as to capture the sun in the valley between her breasts, meanwhile staring into patchwork of blue and white sky until her eyes tear with the effort.

In between the ebb and flow of water she raises herself onto the body of her lover, gripping with arms and legs and with eyes until he can bear no more and kisses her. And the waves continue, and the people continue.

(no subject)

We never spoke again because
there was no hearing ourselves against that awful din we made.

I tried to make you listen, as did you to me but
what we succeeded in making was
a pair of caterwauling idiots.

At night, however, after I pictured myself
smashing my fist to a pulp against your face I
inevitably find myself
buried joyfully beneath your sweating body
and this time we caterwauled again but this time
it was good.