So much has changed. And still, you are fortunate:the ideal burns in you like a fever.Or not like a fever, like a second heart.
Louise Glück, from “October”, Averno: Poems
Beauty in the apertures of pain
@anenlighteningellipsis / anenlighteningellipsis.tumblr.com
I want to say
Without temper
If possible
without the least sense of the
heroic
Without even the measured
ambition
to speak the truth
which is only another vulgarity
To say
I am not what I was
Indeed
I was nothing
and now I am at least the
possibility
of
something
and this
I will defend.