Wanted to have it here as well

Posted by Claudia Moser on 7:22 PM

Closer than each breath,
For you I look everywhere:
Where are you hiding?


Here I mourn and fast
Yet behind the veil my love
Waits for me, naked.


Possessing you, I
Shall not be me but you -
Who will then be I?


To express my love
In seventeen syllables?
Too few! Too many.



Post a Comment

Thank you for your comments, I appreciate them all!


"A story is not like a road to follow … it's more like a house. You go inside and stay there for a while, wandering back and forth and settling where you like and discovering how the room and corridors relate to each other, how the world outside is altered by being viewed from these windows. And you, the visitor, the reader, are altered as well by being in this enclosed space, whether it is ample and easy or full of crooked turns, or sparsely or opulently furnished. You can go back again and again, and the house, the story, always contains more than you saw the last time. It also has a sturdy sense of itself of being built out of its own necessity, not just to shelter or beguile you."
by Alice Munro

Copyright © 2009 The story All rights reserved. Theme by Laptop Geek. | Bloggerized by FalconHive.