05/07/09 – 8:30pm (can you be this space?)
“I looked at him, trusting, vulnerable, love without caution. He was a new beginning and every new beginning returns the world. In him, the rain forests were pristine and the sea had not been blunted. He was a map of clear outlines and unnamed hope. He was time before or time after. Time now had not spoilt him. In the space between chaos and shape there was another chance.” – Jeanette Winterson: “The World And Other Places.”
“She is a good soul who has served me well for a number of years, but during the last few weeks a morbid sensitiveness has made it increasingly difficult for me to look her in the face. Does she know or does she not know the doom which is hanging over me?” – “the good woman’s face expressed no particular interest, and it was clear to me that she did not see the two bright birds which were causing me such emotion.” – Anna Kavan: “Asylum Piece.”
“Love me Sophia, this hand tracing of myself, an outline told in blood. Take my hand, what do you read there? The chronicle of a long life and all the forgotten loss. But what remains when the story has been told? What will bring you back to me when you know what happens next? Only words, the curving beauty in flight, the lasso at once tough and airborn. The words for their own sake, revealing now, themselves. Words beyond information. Words done with plot. The illuminated manuscript that lights itself.” –
READ ME NOW
WORDS IN YOUR MOUTH THAT WILL MODIFY YOUR GUT.
WORDS THAT WILL BECOME YOU.
Recite me until you know me off by heart.
Lift up a flap of skin and the word sings.
On the operating table the word sings.
In the grave the words push up the earth.
ASHES TO ASHES
DUST TO DUST
the living word.