Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Paint the Silence
Her words took a sharp turn. She tried to create meaning behind the words when describing the heartfelt emotion, but like with most things she found, it is incomplete, simply because it is missing certain elements, forcing her to find it elsewhere, providing meaning for the other alternatives. Sometimes she vividly saw the gaps in between the words, which could never suffice for how she felt; it could never properly express how superficial she found the pearls stringed in a sentence. Never in one place, she flitters. In vacant silence, she found no words but air."These were ultramarine days, trimmed in ermine, and the nights showed all their ten thousand stars, gleaming overhead like a proof, a calculus woven on the warp and weft of certain fundamental truths." – Janet Finch, White Oleander
Ethelinde at 3:46 pm