a good book has no ending

What I hope (when I hope) is that we’ll

see each other again,—

… and again reach the VEIN

in which we loved each other . .

It existed. It existed.

There is a NIGHT within the NIGHT,—

… for, like the detectives (the Ritz Brothers)

in The Gorilla,

once we’d been battered by the gorilla

we searched the walls, the intricately carved

impenetrable paneling

for a button, lever, latch

that unlocks a secret door that

reveals at last the secret chambers,

CORRIDORS within WALLS,

(the disenthralling, necessary, dreamed structure

beneath the structure we see,)

that is the HOUSE within the HOUSE …

There is a NIGHT within the NIGHT,—

… there were (for example) months when I seemed only

to displease, frustrate,

disappoint you—; then, something triggered

a drunk lasting for days, and as you

slowly and shakily sobered up,

sick, throbbing with remorse and self-loathing,

insight like ashes: clung

to; useless; hated …

This was the viewing of the power of the waters

while the waters were asleep:—

secrets, histories of loves, betrayals, double-binds

not fit (you thought) for the light of day …

There is a NIGHT within the NIGHT,—

… for, there at times at night, still we

inhabit the secret place together …

Is this wisdom, or self-pity?—

The love I’ve known is the love of

two people staring

not at each other, but in the same direction.

Frank Bidart, “To the Dead”

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   … for, there are times at night, still we inhabit the secret place together … Is this wisdom, or self-pity?— The love...

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12. kathleenjoy reblogged this from csjennings and added:

    What I hope (when I hope) is that we’ll see each other again,— … and again reach the VEIN in which we loved each other ....

13. butnotinlove said: Oh my god, I love Frank Bidart, you beautiful creature. :3
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