Saturday, August 25, 2007

Between Us...

It isn't that to have an honourable relationship with you, I have to understand everything, or tell you everything, or tell you everything at once, or that I can know beforehand everything that I need to tell you.

It means that most of the time I am eager, longing for the possibility of telling you . That these possibilities may seem frightening, but not destructive to me. That I feel strong enough to hear your tentative and groping words. That we both know we are trying all the time to extend the possibility of truth between us. The possibility of a life between us.
When someone tells me a piece of truth which has been withheld from me, and which I needed to see my life more clearly, it may bring acute pain, but it also floods me with a cold, sea sharp wash of relief.

Often such truths come by accident.
Often they come from strangers.


Last night you wrote your sonnets in  Braille: the commas, parenthesis, ellipses engraved perfectly on my skin- and  I  ...