quarta-feira, 24 de dezembro de 2008

in the ward before she went

in the ward before she went every day all winter she forgave me everybody all mankind she grew good God calling her home the blue mound strange idea not bad she must have been dark on the deathbed it grew again

the flowers on the night-table she couldn't turn her head I see the flowers I held them at arm's length before her eyes the things you see right hand left hand before her eyes that was my visit and she forgiving marguerites from the latin pearl they were all I could find

iron bed glossy white two foot wide all was white high off the ground vision of love in it see others' furniture and not the loved one how can one


Beckett, How It Is

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