in loving him,
I saw small-town laborers creating excavations that other men spend their lives trying to fill. In loving him, I saw moving films of stone buildings; I saw a hand in prison dragging snow in from the sill. In loving him, I saw great houses being erected that would soon slide into the waiting and stirring seas. I saw him freeing me from the silences of the interior life.
From David Wojnarowicz’s “Close to the Knives”
This entry was posted by lucio
on Tuesday, November 6th, 2018 at 1:33 am
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