Monday, 14 December 2009
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Talking in bed ought to be easiest,
Lying together there goes back so far,
An emblem of two people being honest.
Yet more and more time passes silently.
Outside the wind's incomplete unrest
Builds and disperses clouds about the sky.
And dark towns heap up on the horizon.
None of this cares for us. Nothing shows why
At this unique distance from isolation
It becomes still more difficult to find
Words at once true and kind,
Or not untrue and not unkind.

... Philip Larkin

Notes: The problems of being in a relationship? Reading such pieces make me wonder if love is sucha bad thing. Reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Of Love and Other Demons didnt help either.


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