Posts tagged bodies.
Is even the end of us an account? No, don’t answer, I know that even the memory has weight. Once in the war I saw a dead horse that had been lying long against the ground. Time and the birds and its own last concentration had removed the body a great way from the head. As I looked upon that head, my memory weighed for the lost body; and because of that missing quantity even heavier hung that head along the ground. So love, when it has gone, taking time with it, leaves a memory of its weight.
this tongue, these
lips the lightning
over the unchartered
landscape of your
terra nova to
resist the still
life of the body
Bodies have their own light which they consume to live: they burn, they are not lit from outside.
A body to be caressed causes the hand to open.
There is no caress in the clenched fist; likewise,
no pen—the pen half-opens the hand.
The hand opens to the word, opens to distance.
Edmond Jabès, from “Those From Whom…” (“Ceux à qui…”), trans. Keith Waldrop (adapted from heart-hieroglyphs)