I want the following word: splendor, splendor is fruit in all its succulence, fruit without sadness. I want vast distances. My savage intuition of myself. ― Clarice Lispector, The Stream of Life. (University of Minnesota Press; 1st edition, June 28, 1989) Originally published August 1973.
I tie knots in the strings of my spirit to remember. They are not pictures of what was. Not accounts of dusk amid the olive trees and that odor. The walking back was the arriving. For that there are three knots and a space and another two close together. They do not imitate the inside… Continue reading Jack Gilbert