As far apart from you as one eye from the other, out of this affliction I’ve taken on will be born the gaze that deserves you at last. — Julio Cortazar, “If I’m To Live,” Save Twilight: Selected Poems. (City Lights Publishers; 2nd Printing edition January 1, 2001) Originally published October 12th 1980.
I thought I had died and that death meant repeating a name forever. — Alejandra Pizarnik, from “Cornerstone,” Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 – 1972. (New Directions; 1 edition May 17, 2016) Originally published October 1994.
In the middle of the night your dream wakes me, the dream you were in. The half-surrended body tongue mouth fingers stretch bridges towards the turning rock of desire. Your embrace in another embrace, rose of the breasts I suck. In the middle of the night I wake and repeat holy holy the bread has… Continue reading Diana Bellessi
on the other side of the night love is possible —take me there— take me among the sweet substances that die each day in your memory — Alejandra Pizarnik, “Oblivion,” Selected Poems, trans. Cecilia Rossi (Waterloo Press, 2010)
An unchangeable colour rules over the melancholic: his dwelling is a space the colour of mourning. Nothing happens in it. No one intrudes. It is a bare stage where the inert I is assisted by the I suffering from that inertia. The latter wishes to free the former, but all efforts fail, as Theseus would… Continue reading Alejandra Pizarnik
But don’t speak of gardens. Don’t speak of the moon. Don’t speak of roses or the sea. Speak of what you know. Speak of the thing that rings in the marrow, that plays in your eyes with shadow and light. Speak of the endless ache in your bones. Speak of vertigo. Speak of respiration and… Continue reading Alejandra Pizarnik
The heart asks more than life can give, When that is learned, then all is learned; — Sara Teasdale, from “Moonlight,” Flame and Shadow . (Dodo Press March 21, 2008) Originally published 1920.