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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424519" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Benediction Of The Air</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In every presence there is absence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When we're together, the spaces between<br>Threaten to enclose our bodies<br>And isolate our spirits.<br>The mirror reflects what we are not,<br>And we wonder if our mate<br>Suspects a fatal misreading<br>Of our original text,<br>Not to mention the dreaded subtext.<br>Reality, we fear, mocks appearance.<br>Or is trapped in a hall of mirrors<br>Where infinite regress prevents<br>A grateful egress. That is,<br>We can never know the meaning<br>Of being two-in-one,<br>Or if we are one-in-two.<br>What-I-Am is grieved at What-I'm-Not.<br>What-We-Should-Be is numbed by What-We-Are.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes, I'm playing word games<br>With the idea of marriage,<br>Musing over how even we can<br>Secularize Holy wedlock.<br>Or to figure it another way,<br>To wonder why two televisions<br>In the same house seem natural symbols<br>Of the family in decline.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet you are present to me now.<br>I sense you keenly, at work,<br>Bending red in face to reach<br>A last defiant spot of yellow<br>On those horrific kitchen cabinets.<br>Your honey hair flecked with paint;<br>Your large soft hidden breasts<br>Pushing down against your shirt.<br>The hemispheres of those buttocks<br>Curving into uncompromising hips.<br>To embrace you would be to take hold<br>Of my life in all its substance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Without romance, I say that if<br>I were to deconstruct myself<br>And fling the pieces at random,<br>They would compose themselves<br>Into your shape.<br>But I guess that is romantic,<br>The old mystification-<br>Cramming two bodies<br>Into a single space.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amen!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our separation has taught me<br>That, dwelling in mind,<br>The corporeality<br>Of mates has spiritual mass<br>Which may be formulated:<br>Memory times desire over distance<br>Yields a bodying forth.<br>Thus I project into the<br>Deadly space between us<br>A corposant,Pulsating a language<br>That will cleave to you<br>In the coolness of sleep<br>With insubstantiality<br>So fierce as to leave its dampness<br>On the morning sheets,<br>Or so gentle<br>As to fan your brow<br>While you paint the kitchen.<br>A body like a breath,<br>Whispering the axiom<br>By which all religions are blessed:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In every absence there is presence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bene<br>Bene<br>Benedictus.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Submitted by David Shackelford</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Williams">John Williams</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=424519" data-title="A Benediction Of The Air de John Williams" data-description="In every presence there is absence.

When we're together, the spaces between
Threaten to enclose our bodies
And isolate our spirits.
The mirror reflects what we are not,
And we wonder if our mate
Suspects a fatal misreading
Of our original text,
N..."></div>
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