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galina-ulanova

Semyon Chudin and Olga Smirnova in Diamonds (Bolshoi Ballet, 2017)

silkenscreen

Jonathan (1970) dir. Hans W. Geißendörfer

I’m back and on my bs

heartbreakclubs

someone: i love and care about you

me: aw i love you too

5 minutes later..

me: so do you still love me

thehoneysacrifice-deactivated20

Thomas Grünfeld, from Misfits series

illyadarling

generic-art

seidkonaz

Photography by Emma Katka

hiddenshores

My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers of my palms tell me so. Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish at the same time. I think praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think staying up and waiting for paintings to sigh is science. In another dimension this is exactly what’s happening, it’s what they write grants about: the chromodynamics of mournful Whistlers, the audible sorrow and beta decay of Old Battersea Bridge. I like the idea of different theres and elsewheres, an Idaho known for bluegrass, a Bronx where people talk like violets smell. Perhaps I am somewhere patient, somehow kind, perhaps in the nook of a cousin universe I’ve never defiled or betrayed anyone. Here I have two hands and they are vanishing, the hollow of your back to rest my cheek against, your voice and little else but my assiduous fear to cherish. My hands are webbed like the wind-torn work of a spider, like they squeezed something in the womb but couldn’t hang on. One of those other worlds or a life I felt passing through mine, or the ocean inside my mother’s belly she had to scream out. Here, when I say I never want to be without you, somewhere else I am sayingI never want to be without you again. And when I touch you in each of the places we meet, in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying and resurrected. When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life, in each place and forever.

Bob Hicok, “Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem”, in Plus Shipping (via hiddenshores)