This is how my life is like sometimes.

Between Going and Staying
Octavio Paz

Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.

The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can’t be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.

Advertisements

Yesterday afternoon you said: I’m exasperated; you are in love with everything. Clarification, I said. Was it everything or every thing?

You sighed loudly, and shouted back at me while you walked away: You’re not listening! Do you want to die because of a broken heart?

Coda
Octavio Paz

Perhaps to love is to learn
to walk through this world.
To learn to be silent
like the oak and the linden of the fable.
To learn to see.
Your glance scattered seeds.
It planted a tree.
        I talk
because you shake its leaves.