“we can!” she writes to this other hemisphere where I am who — immediately distracted by that insurgence —
lets the coffee grow cold, drinks it anyway and feels warmth

blood pressures rise with apprehension of silence of pure wanting, wanting to be swallowed by that gorgeous everchanging ocean being,

don’t cry I cry to myself. think of Jabès, the moon,
how you dare to fall to love with her different continent without the popular nihilism of Wim Wenders, no; her Paul Celan. […]

continua by Donna Fleisher in Realities & the Rituals of the Upside down

~~~~~~

* in copertina
Canoe / Woman –
Landon Mackenzie