Thin Reality
Like a sheet of ice. No, like a sheet of paper...
What is imagined dissolves. What is real persists. An endless bubble, its skin.
What is imagined dissolves. What is real persists. An endless bubble, its skin.
posted by Cheshire Cat at 5:00 AM
2 Comments:
Reminds me of the beginning of Nabokov's Transparent Things...?
That I ought to read - I like beginnings. "If on a Winter's Night a Traveler"; Ashbery; primers and dictionaries...
The page serene in its emptiness; Hocquard and Royet-Journoud. It's lovely that literatures can be so alien, so familiar.
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