Smudges of chalk on a replicate, the rust-red or sallow weathermarks that after have been flocks of birds or ghostly angels, emerging in the course of the plaster. the following, within the off-time, the angels flare from an area that no-one owns: the moonlight glazing a flooring; the chiming of a clock, nonetheless operating down among a locked door and a flight of stairs – it is all annunciation, a method or one other, the following, the place the fog is available in from the white Atlantic, sea-fog, salt-fog, white at the white of the walls,.
To greenery. think a god who appears to be like from not anything, jagged scrapings within the middle, a ragged nail monitoring the flicker of the attention, or the fun of the marrow, and wonder how prayer is feasible, if to not whatever alien and tidal: the skitter of a leaf throughout a window, a maddened dermis unfolding at nighttime; and even if those prayers come up from worry, or a few prolonged shape of longing, just like the sound the seabirds make at dusk, calling out alongside the shore; even if we pray.
Distance, a physique of fireplace, eels on a towpath, charting the grass among rivers, the thinning fantastic thing about the good way domestic and, someplace within the dream past this dream, the home at the back of the homes I be mindful, frog-house, star-house, condo of silk and tuber, the tribes of visitants who come and cross, touched with the golf green of the woods, or the golf green of water: shapes i've got noticeable in glimpses, via panic and pleasure: arms and glances sliding during the headlamps, stickle-bones, whiter than.
lengthy dialog or a type of video games the place the not anything that occurs in time is the only factor now we have for retains: the seep of song throughout the bone; a wavelength of owls, the place every little thing is static. I DE CORPORIS RESURRECTIONE A George Soule Vuelve l. a. nieve; y a veces los muertos que hemos lavado y enterrado: las madres amorosas y artríticas que apenas notábamos cuando pulían cucharas de madrugada, cuando pulían espejos; los que se evaporaron de silicosis en los angeles cocina; los.
showing, each day, on this planet of our making; we opt for months with phantoms in our heads until, filling a bathtub, or fetching the laundry in, we see ourselves back, at domestic, illumined, folding a sheet, or pouring a tumbler of milk, vivid within the the following and now, and unencumbered. XI. LARES Toda l. a. tarde te he oído ir de un cuarto a otro, como quien ofrece el don de su presencia vigilante, o un atisbo del sol que se demora en los pliegues de las cortinas o de las sombras que se.