TE16 Turkish Delight

Mario Levi alone with his own stories and evocations. I suppose it must be something not unlike awaiting a familiar sound, some fecundity, or remorse that may give way to joy, to rise from an ostensibly unresponsive street. Let’s see to what familiar beach or crack in the door this longing will bring us. I considered once more, for example, those who’ll one day be able to hear us and these things we’ve endured in the way we want to be heard. The possibilities were oftentimes uplifting and just as often anxiety-inducing. At the end of the day, in such efforts of conferring, no risk is too great to turn away from. It’s an old, old tale, in other words, a journey that inoureyesalluringly, almost irresistiblypaints thisadventure. The allure of heading into danger, yes. I hope that one day, after a long time has passed, after the numerous layers of this story have been lived out and, most importantly, rewritten by others, I’ll be able to talk to you of remaining grievances. For now, though, only dreams, designs, and little anticipations. Hopes that bind us to one another, to stations thatwemay happen upon at inopportune times and in lost motels. It’s then that I say to myself, now is the time to wait somewhere, small suitcase in hand, between a few lines, or in some sentence that may have gone ignored. Many reasons for travel and small joys have accumulated inside you. You recall the poetry of certain sounds and wish you could relive what you’ve lost. You have been told, also, that you’re living in memories, in the dream of a lover that never changes. Then you think of defeat and the lovemaking left inside the dreams, and you strive to forget yourself once more, to look the other way.

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