Sevi’s Reviews > The Beauty of the Husband: A Fictional Essay in 29 Tangos > Status Update

But words
are a strange docile wheat are they not, they bend
to the ground.

Even to receive this letter was to be transgressed
by an iridescence of him
which I could not keep out of me like a fine plaster dust
it came in at every pore.

Ray please I never lied to her. When need arose I may have used words that lied.

He was not wrong that sad anthropologist who told us the primary function of writing is to enslave human beings. Intellectual and aesthetic uses came later.

Fiction forms what streams in us.
Naturally it is suspect.

I only feel clean he says suddenly when I wake up with you.
The seduction of force is from below.
With one finger
the king of hell is writing her initials on the glass like scalded things.
So in travail a husband's
legend glows, sings.

and I do not apologize because as I say I was not to blame, I was unshielded
in the face of existence
and existence depends on beauty.
In the end.
Existence will not stop
until it gets to beauty and then there follow all the consequences
that lead to the end.

“Desire doubled is love and love doubled is madness.”
Madness doubled is marriage

All myth is an enriched pattern,
a two-faced proposition,
allowing its operator to say one thing and mean another, to lead a double life.
Hence the notion found early in ancient thought that all poets are liars.
And from the true lies of poetry
trickled out a question.

What really connects words and things?

We have this deep sadness between us and its spells so habitual I
can't
tell it from love.