inklingfair I’ve missed quite a few Thursdays (it’s now the 13th Thursday), but I don’t mind being left behind.
Yesterday I found all my stuff back at the old apartment – while J and I were in Nueva Vizcaya, Sir Danny and CJ moved us back. The floor is new and gray, paint still slightly sticky. Two-thirds of the walls are a bright, light, pristine green. Everything is the same, really, but slightly different, like I stepped through a looking-glass back into a time when the termites still hadn’t eaten through the floor and the ceilings were unstained by dripping rainwater.
All that you fashion
All that you make
All that you build
The golden dids and all that ought and didn’t and couldn’t.
All that you break
Forever subtracted from forever, defying mathematics, leaving nothing.
All that you measure
Less than, lower than, smaller than, dimmer than, duller than, against.
All that you feel
Despair, diffidence, numbness, poverty, pity.
All this you can leave behind
All that you reason
All that you sense
All that you speak
Contempt for faith and deliberate living.
All you dress up
All that you scheme
Shells of former selves.
Photo by Rui Silvestre on Unsplash
