Oct 17, 2011 17:32
Denser and deeper I revel in abstractions that are not abstractions, the poetic license that renders me untrustworthy, mystical,suggestive...which are all really just synonyms for sexy.
None of us know quite what we mean by "sexy", or rather, we could never agree on just this meaning or that. Precisely the point of enticement, I think. What would draw be without some mystery? Isn't the art of allure the holding something back? A little piece of this or that? A little corner you just. can't. peak. under.
That which we hide gives us a kind of power, that which we seek enervates with motivation. libido. Hunger. Striving.
Dirty, dirty words. Every single one of them covered with grime from beneath the bed, on top of the sink, beneath the toilet, and if you hide it for long enough it is earthy, mossy, rich and fertile.
As these blatherings pull me from safety, from solidity, from all manner of unappealing straightforwardness, harsh abrasive cleanliness.
Silly, scrubbed stones.
I would rather tear through the brambles and vines of this language and find the pulsing, oozing heart.