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Monday, April 13, 2015

Epistolary

The image is from a lovely article on the making of a new mosaic by Aidan Hart.

The alphabets we use are all broken, but you and I
don't need them whole. Tesserae from our respective
shard-hordes, rough against fingertips that fit them into
place, speak for us, to each other, in a mosaic of un-
voiced vowels: silent, layered, reflecting glints of light.

3 comments:

Shelly Lowenkopf said...

Nice to be able to post a comment on a matter of considerable substance. Thus: Freaking brilliant.

Dale said...

So wonderful. This is what Eliot was trying to say with that "fragments shored against my ruins" business, but he botched it. This is perfect.

Larry said...

Yep! I concur heartily with your well-wrought sentiments, Lori!