Ah these sunsets and sunrisings, dawns and dusks that pull so much from our eyes, from our foreheads and arms growing soft and furrowed beneath age. And tell me for what reason the animal body passes through these tall grasses, along the ledges and windows of day and night, why these leaning red flowers still opening and closing with the wind and the night, why these silver images flickering from far windows down through the alleyways, why this sense of solitude in rooms filled with people, why the sense of loneliness as arms stretch away from the body of a lover, why these quiet moments of desperation along the coast, the standing platform on the wall of the sea, the shift of sands and winds, the continual rippling of waters, the indigo that claims it all - water wind sea skies and the deepest corridors of the heart -
Amy Shoulder, New York, Grove Press, p. 106.
