Friday, 26 April 2013

'What You Said about the Moon'

'All the little lies follow the big lie
while the big lie is pared away.
Fading face, old friend
of my left hand waning,
of my right hand waxing:
gibbous mirror womb for womb.
Throbbing pulse and dangling watch,
globing, shrinking, hinged
where night
unhinges night.
Cause of eloquence
ending in derangement.
There could be such a thing as too much feeling.
I had meant to harvest, not to hunt.
Turn your money over,
blow ashes,
whisper “I saw you before you saw me.”'
Susan Stewart (2003), Columbarium. London & Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, p.58