miércoles, 29 de junio de 2011

The inconvenient art of thinking.

Elliott Erwitt

''Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise, incapable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight on him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away.''
[A Tale of Two Cities]

You make me sad

and I am good.
But I must relinquish being the tough skin,
the marble tower of incomparable things.

You make me sad

but I still write.
And I lull myself into a false state of assurance,
a dripping, coarse despair of a judgment.

You make me sad

and I can't find atonement.
But as my reciprocity loudens
it also suffers the bleak fever of the hesitant.

You make me sad

and I can't realign my bones,
the unfortunate infection of the caress.

You make me sad
but there's something tantalizing in that.

Paula Sanz.

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