the dark sound of night

Because it was raining outside the palace

Because there was no rain in her vicinity

Because people kept asking her questions Because nobody ever asked her anything

Because marriage robbed her of her mother Because she lost her daughters to the same tradition

Because her son laughed when she opened her mouth Because he never delighted in anything she said

Because romance carried the rose inside a fist Because she hungered for the fragrance of the rose

Because the jewels of her life did not belong to her Because the glow of gold and silk disguised her soul Because nothing she could say could change the melted     music of her space Because the privilege of her misery was something she could     not disgrace Because no one could imagine reasons for her grief Because her grief required no imagination Because it was raining outside the palace Because there was no rain in her vicinity

Dedicated to the Empress Michiko and to Janice Mirikitani

Pakeezah (1972)

me: *looks @ these pics*

In the event of change

I am saying primroses lined the pathway of toothless hedges. I am saying the ocean shimmered like corrugated steel in themorning sun. The context of my story changes when you enter. Then I am dungon the wall of the nomad’s field. Then the everyday waking person. I am nodding in your direction like fissures between dandelion fur.Seeing in your manner. I am speaking your pace. Slippage of silk slippers. I say you are losing sight. I say your breasts are dry shells. I am afraid of what I am capable of doing. This is all a manner of stating how I prepare myself to be loved.

…what’s important is to teach the subject to name, to articulate, to bring this desire into existence, this desire which, quite literally, is on the side of existence, which is why it insists. If desire doesn’t dare to speak its name, it’s because the subject hasn’t yet caused this name to come forth. 

That the subject should come to recognise and to name his desire, that is the efficacious action of analysis. But it isn’t a question of recognising something which would be entirely given, ready to be co-apted. In naming it, the subject creates, brings forth, a new presence in the world. He introduces presence as such, and by the same token, hollows out absence as such. It is only at this level that one can conceive of the action of interpretation.