ANATOMÍA DE LA INTIMIDAD literatura y espejos rotos

I should like it to resemble some deep old desk, or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. (Virginia Woolf) We become ourselves through others, and the self is a porous thing, not a sealed container (Siri Hustvedt) En vez de mirarme en mi espejo quiero que mi espejo se mire en mí (Alejandra Pizarnik)

The downs

For many years she walks the downs knowing something- it , she says – is there and is always going to be there. Beauty, peace, wordlessness. She might be afraid, exhausted, deceived or even lost that day, but she knows she has conquered the soul of the green downs. They are motionless, alive and they do often chant with the wind.


– Oh! She has drowned herself in the blue, they say. She is gone, she is not there anymore.
– Do not worry, she is certainly to be found. In the green, in it, between the downs and nowhere.



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Esta entrada fue publicada en 10/01/2014 por en Fragmentos de Intimidad, Posts in English y etiquetada con .

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