"my heart the shape of a begging bowl" Mr CohenBut more felt; a heart with no space to move in to. No Other except in side. How to claim it? "Did you go crazy?" no such relief. "Bitter searching of the Heart"
Bodies play games - suddenly unpredictable, out of control like the clouds, witnessing deeper shifts - subterranean, submarine and a vast time scale intrudes.
There is a sublime perspective to all of this ... a hierarchy of Nature positioned in the day-to-day. Time passes but its not gone ... Memory recalls times and spaces and makes them all more potent under a microscope of time.
No pain mirrors another - this is no equivalence on a scale of hurt.
"Between gods and men, territories are set up. At least in the no-man’s land of the heights of heaven, the depths of hell, and inside the boundary traced by the oceans. Dimensions installed by a cosmogonic trilogy that leaves each term in its generic place. There remains the earth ancestress, a fourth term, that was once the most fertile, that has been progressively buried and forgotten beneath the architectonic of patriarchal sovereignty. And this murder erupts in the form of ambivalences that have constantly to be solved and hierarchized, in twinned pairs of more or less good doubles." — Luce Irigaray (Marine Lover of Friedrich Nietzsche)
I adore this colour blue. I would get weak at the knees if I saw eyes this blue!
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