Our
relations are implied
less
by the sides we seem to take overtlythan by faint suggestions of a tainted
purpose just beneath the surface –
hidden – pressing up against the hide –
bidden
by a flick of brow
or
by a sigh – a sort of glide into gestationwhich if we do not attend to it –
which most of us, forgivably, do not –
we’ll miss, and thereby miss the whole.
Family
portraits for example are particularly
strange:
oh, what a swollen range of unexample they can be! For instance,
this – of me, and them. All that I can
think to say about it is ahem.
.
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