Thursday, 6 April 2017

Between


the suspended lull between the words
the unhyphened space between the pictures

between the necessary blinking

the hiatus after the shutter closes

the driving force behind the unmovement
charged impetus into immobility



this is where we belong
careful anecdotalists chartering the mindscape
us photographers, writers, painters



this fixed moment of hesitation
the story untold, untellable
the halt between the gun shot and death
unfalling body
unwinding catastrophe

the pause between this breath and the next
the brush in both the hand's and gravity's grasp

the undocumented travel
perhaps undocumentable

the quest for the self
between the lub and the dub



and then
the soldier coming home from two years at the front
the father returning to his abandoned son after two decades
the hermit descending into the valley for her yearly supplies
past lovers running into one another
finding a yearbook thirty years later



you can't bridge this gap
it is too wide to be measured
too deep to be filled
even though you know
what must have happened
the story is between the layers
it was meant to be lost
time doesn't increase the magnitude of the loss
time contracts, and so do we
memories are snapshots in-between snapshots
conflated time in the hands of serendipity
meant to be lost

No comments:

Post a Comment

Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question

Silly little details

  You said it was the way I looked at you played with your fingertips drowned in your eyes starving your skin you felt happiness again your ...