I was the fire dreaming of some accident,

some alchemy of phosphoric
connections— a conflagration

seeded in stars before we
were even born, the sympathetic

rise of hair along forehead
and nape. Your gaze translates

into tectonic movements across
the tablecloth, the undulation

of curtains and ceiling lights.
Though the years have aged us both,

rivers of longing grow more and more
into the shape of that archipelago

left behind. When I look into
the depths of your eyes, it is always

my absence I catch, though your mouth
never shapes any chiding word.

~ after “Simpatia” (Sympathy), oil on masonite, 1955; Remedios Varo

 

In response to Via Negativa: Fire Dream.

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