(no subject)
There's this poem, by Adrienne Rich. Some fic I read once linked me to a different one of this set of 21 as inspiration for the story, but it's this one that my mind keeps coming back to.
VIII
I can see myself years back at Sunion,
hurting with an infected foot, Philoctetes
in woman’s form, limping the long path,
lying on a headland over the dark sea,
looking down the red rocks to where a soundless curl
of white told me a wave had struck,
imagining the pull of that water from that height,
knowing deliberate suicide wasn't my métier,
yet all the time nursing, measuring that wound.
Well, that’s finished. The woman who cherished
her suffering is dead. I am her descendant.
I love the scar-tissue she handed on to me,
but I want to go on from here with you
fighting the temptation to make a career of pain.
I want to be that woman. Some days, I think that I am.
I see my-some days/someday-self in this her/me. But then I'm not sure if it's romantic delusions or wishful thinking or some kind of hope, because I look into the not-too-distant past or the present or where it feels like I'm going and I'm still staring down at the rocks.
VIII
I can see myself years back at Sunion,
hurting with an infected foot, Philoctetes
in woman’s form, limping the long path,
lying on a headland over the dark sea,
looking down the red rocks to where a soundless curl
of white told me a wave had struck,
imagining the pull of that water from that height,
knowing deliberate suicide wasn't my métier,
yet all the time nursing, measuring that wound.
Well, that’s finished. The woman who cherished
her suffering is dead. I am her descendant.
I love the scar-tissue she handed on to me,
but I want to go on from here with you
fighting the temptation to make a career of pain.
I want to be that woman. Some days, I think that I am.
I see my-some days/someday-self in this her/me. But then I'm not sure if it's romantic delusions or wishful thinking or some kind of hope, because I look into the not-too-distant past or the present or where it feels like I'm going and I'm still staring down at the rocks.