tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82743749919932877.post3705296565210314372..comments2023-12-20T04:30:52.330+01:00Comments on Petit Palais du Vocabulaire: Anne Sexton. Canción de amoruna chica de ojos marroneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13743107801808476662noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82743749919932877.post-63294251213562192742012-06-09T10:27:47.509+02:002012-06-09T10:27:47.509+02:00LOVE SONG
I was
the girl of the chain letter,
...LOVE SONG<br /> <br />I was<br /> the girl of the chain letter,<br /> the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes,<br /> the one of the telephone bills,<br /> the wrinkled photo and the lost connections,<br /> the one who kept saying–<br /> Listen! Listen!<br /> We must never! We must never!<br /> and all those things…<br /> <br />the one<br /> with her eyes half under her coat,<br /> with her large gun-metal blue eyes,<br /> with the thin vein at the bend of her neck<br /> that hummed like a tuning fork,<br /> with her shoulders as bare as a building,<br /> with her thin foot and her thin toes,<br /> with an old red hook in her mouth,<br /> the mouth that kept bleeding<br /> in the terrible fields of her soul…<br /> <br />the one<br /> who kept dropping off to sleep,<br /> as old as a stone she was,<br /> each hand like a piece of cement,<br /> for hours and hours<br /> and then she’d wake,<br /> after the small death,<br /> and then she’d be as soft as,<br /> as delicate as…<br /> <br />as soft and delicate as<br /> an excess of light,<br /> with nothing dangerous at all,<br /> like a beggar who eats<br /> or a mouse on a rooftop<br /> with no trap doors,<br /> with nothing more honest<br /> than your hand in her hand–<br /> with nobody, nobody but you!<br /> and all those things.<br /> nobody, nobody but you!<br /> Oh! There is no translating<br /> that ocean,<br /> that music,<br /> that theater,<br /> that field of ponies.(v.o.)noreply@blogger.com