Post
by jsol » August 4th, 2014, 12:22 am
I spent a good twenty minutes thinking about this one. Such tough and hardened imagery belies the subtlety at which this small collection of words picks the locks of language and slips silently into the great current, hurdling meaning with great force deep into the places where purpose meets passion and logic just somehow appears, as confused by his own presence there as anyone. In the first line you give life to your thirst, granting it the terrible powers of persuasion and pain that are life's burden to bear. You and this thirst of yours are inseparable, the memory you together share, the memory of that which gave this thirst to you has become a habit and you spend your time caught in this memory. It is unclear whether you wish to let go of the whole thing, it seems to drive you, perhaps you would be lost without its purpose to caress and invoke.
Another striking ambiguity is the question of revenge or acceptance. I get the sense that you would do anything to change the outcome of this story but I also feel that you know it is impossible to do so and have taken as closure a reluctant acceptance that can only dwell on this memory. This is such a sad piece of writing. The empathy in me feels closely your impasse and suddenly my throat is parched, my first clenched, my eyes sting with the salt of tears that won't quite fall, caught burning against my iris.