Saturday, March 07, 2015

Milestone-aware, Peculiar Pity

Milestones are reciprocative, in my child they are answered by me. By synthesis we are mutually readied for those first steps, and by the same instinct I cry when I see the man, infirm from a stroke, with impaired speech and clawed hand, and think of how his parents must have delighted at the moro reflex and the first words.

And much else is reciprocated: tenderness leaves my eyes, leaves your eyes, leaves my eyes; and people are indifferent to me commensurate with my waking up embarrassed at what I have written; and depression is not that black shuck displaced from the moors. It is the awareness of reciprocation bringing about disintegration.