#5 winter solstice 2016

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My hands were full as my foot scootched the door of the studio closed and I realized there were no lights on in either the studio or the house. There was that moment when I was afraid of the dark. It was the moment before I could recognize the difference between tree and sky, or driveway and grass. It was the instant before I could distinguish the drudgery of clearing the piles of packing materials from the clarity of isolating the new pots. This struggle with the dark is what drives my attention towards the shortness of light and to track its beauty and understand the nuance of its opposite.
05 winter 2016.jpgangel

I suppose

I'm afraid

of forever

I close

my eyes

& it's intense

it's beginning

inside me

I'm trying

to clear the deck

to get to


yawning simplicity

it's something


in the dark

how many times

could I

move the dot

back to

hear him say

there was

so much

more of it

& there is

will you love

me forever

for this

my simple


my fear of the

dark gives

me something

to say

it descends

& I wake

each glimpse

like a tiny

star of
the other


when I

was alive

--Eileen Myles

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This page contains a single entry by Catherine White published on December 5, 2016 10:10 PM.

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