Every day he poured his question into her, as you pour water from one vessel into another, and it poured back. Don’t tell me he was painting his mother, lust, etc. There is a moment when the water is not in one vessel nor in the other – what a thirst it was, and he supposed that when the canvas became completely empty he would stop. But women are strong. She knew vessels, she knew water, she knew mortal thirst.
“To take up where you left off!
without a breath of separation
your new movement is begun.
The heart pulses on, developing
a future. You do not rest
your lips, your ears, your fingers.
The field is full of daisies
and the sun is shining greenly.
It is a musical development,
taxing and inspired, before
the old love has echoed away.
To the eager suggestion of a new
face. It will be a great movement!
begun warmly and without a pause.
You have carried yourself to a new
world, put off the final applause.”
Frank O’Hara | “Attacca”