Sunday, March 13, 2011

fainting spells

"but he dared not show himself, for what she wanted he could not give: his love was in the earth, shattered and still, dried flowers where eyes should be, and moss upon the lips, his love was faraway feeding on the rain, lilies frothing from its ruin. withdrawing, she went up the stairs, and joel, who listened to her footfalls overhead as she in her need of him searched the jungle of rooms, felt for himself ferocious contempt: what was his terror compared with miss wisteria's? he owned a room, he had a bed, any minute now he would run from here, go to them. but for miss wisteria, weeping because little boys must grow tall, there would always be this journey through dying rooms until some lonely day she found her hidden one, the smiler with the knife."
- truman capote, other voices, other rooms
a bit of green in lots of blue