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.
angel
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
this
yawning simplicity
it's something
different
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
fear
my fear of the
dark gives
me something
to say
it descends
& I wake
each glimpse
like a tiny
star of the other
side
when I
was alive
--Eileen Myles
angelI 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
this
yawning simplicity
it's something
different
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
fear
my fear of the
dark gives
me something
to say
it descends
& I wake
each glimpse
like a tiny
star of the other
side
when I
was alive
--Eileen Myles
Leave a comment