(no subject)
November
There is a bright eye in me dulled by the activity of my dreaming eye.
One phrase going on for so long you don't hear anything anymore
but the breath it takes to say it.
There are many faces through which to address God
Why would you stop? How could you speak against him?
There are many faces but you are not looking closely.
If, as you read this, he comes down the stairs on the other side of the ocean
and lights the stove--are either of you more alone, less
able to face your death, that you are not in the same room?
You need both eyes where you're going.
On the table you work at, stacks of papers,
a lamp, a scratch, a hole, and two passerby
talking outside the fifth of
November in a city growing cold.
You did not know, you did not
know. Therefore, you changed.
-Saskia Hamilton
There is a bright eye in me dulled by the activity of my dreaming eye.
One phrase going on for so long you don't hear anything anymore
but the breath it takes to say it.
There are many faces through which to address God
Why would you stop? How could you speak against him?
There are many faces but you are not looking closely.
If, as you read this, he comes down the stairs on the other side of the ocean
and lights the stove--are either of you more alone, less
able to face your death, that you are not in the same room?
You need both eyes where you're going.
On the table you work at, stacks of papers,
a lamp, a scratch, a hole, and two passerby
talking outside the fifth of
November in a city growing cold.
You did not know, you did not
know. Therefore, you changed.
-Saskia Hamilton