Lying under your weeping willow,
wondering which one of us is the sun
and which is the moon,
knowing that I will be jealous of your darkness
and of your light, knowing
that you will be jealous too
wondering which one of us is the sun
and which is the moon,
knowing that I will be jealous of your darkness
and of your light, knowing
that you will be jealous too
[photo of a Pasty Book Violet made for my birthday one year, with her wee little fingers in the frame]
2 comments:
Always. This whole no direct transfer of meaning business makes me a bit frantic.
My wee little fingers, eh?
I've come to grips with the inextinguishable isolation of the mind... I think. Frantic, definetly. But I do so love Alice Hoffman, she makes it bearable and lovely.
Yes, your wee little fingers. Didn't want anyone thinking they were mine. I'm very atached to my fingers (though not in the way Eeyore is to his tail, obviously).
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