Billy Rose Theatre Division, The New York Public Library. "Hands" The New York Public Library Digital Collections. 1941.
(Pathways)
- One is the forest, spiking under a full moon.
Every time I walk down the street and someone yells something or sucks or spits
At the shape of me
I think of you and how you left it,
I feel sorry for myself,
and I hate you for leaving me alone on this street
And I know it’s not right, I can take care of myself!
But still,
Every time I have tried from behind,
I don’t remember trying, or asking.
I don’t know why this motion is blocked.
Omission is betrayal.
- One is a meadow in the sun, smooth grasses on a day off.
But isn’t that the same story over and over.
He flashed me, knowingly.
I’m sure it isn’t true.
He lifted me up off the floor when I fell off the bed during the night.
He said I made a thud,
But I’m sure nothing is true.
Like when you moved away and left,
Only to move back and run into my best friend. (Omission is betrayal.)
But i’m glad my best friend told me,
So I got the information,
While sitting on my throne.
Instead of dissolving at the sight of you as a present picture and not a memory,
in the place we fell in love.
- The one is a garden, leaves and vegetables curling from his ear.
You are bad at texting back.
You have 63 unread messages.
You have 63 secrets.
My thoughts pickle.
Omission is betrayal, my garden.
My bowl of sand.
My womb in dirt.
My moon. My meadow. My star.
(Just sum tarot cards.)
-Andrea Grassi
