A Picture I Took This Evening
An Antidote To A Bad Night
After several hours of dirty battle on X in which I found myself both attacked and attacking, covered in energetic grime, I remembered a photo I took tonight.
I sometimes don’t make it out for my walk until dusk, which is the perfect time to take her picture.
I will let the ants take the whole picnic. They are targeting people with what seems like military strategies. My son asked what I’m fighting for. “Just explain you did the best you could,” he said.
I want to think about the Alhambra, in the time I have left.
“The Alhambra is a marble poem, a dream made architecture".
- Victor Hugo
Even though you’ve been battling for truth for such a long time, you’re still a tender soul. Staying vulnerable after all this time is unusual and surely takes a toll. Your willingness to stay in the fight while sharing the price you pay is why your voice stands out Celia.
I feel ya, sister! More dream marble.
Archaic Torso of Apollo
Rainer Maria Rilke
1875 –1926
We cannot know his legendary head
with eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso
is still suffused with brilliance from inside,
like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low,
gleams in all its power. Otherwise
the curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could
a smile run through the placid hips and thighs
to that dark center where procreation flared.
Otherwise this stone would seem defaced
beneath the translucent cascade of the shoulders
and would not glisten like a wild beast's fur:
would not, from all the borders of itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.