We have also seen these women - In a dream or not, but still
waves in enclosures at night -
under their manes mares, spirited
eyes with long soft luster of leather, meat
not available to these new stalls Canvas,
cheap daily to gobble one between two sheets, but the animal
sister who steals and guesses,
even less distinct curls, her lace
undulating wave that is not foam, flexible
fawn all of which are
hunters and the best armed
never reaches because it is hidden deep inside his own body he
can not penetrate - a roar he claimed victory - because it is only
as the threshold
its own garden,
or a flaw in the night unable to shake
the wall, or trap
flavored fruit dripping fruit,
but would look - and tears.
is a poem by Philip Jaccottet (Songs from below); I wanted to illustrate a photograph of Leonor Fini, as it made me think about it .. . Et .. yes, I'm (finally) back!
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