From Book of My Hunger, Book of the Earth - Excerpt

If I were to find true speech with you I would have to do so by my mind. It would do no good to crouch down, look you in your face and try to join the simple vowels of your long nose to the joyful consonants flapping in your ears. It was the smells, long ago, that drew the melody down to the trail away from the echoes that start up within your ears, a terrible division within, which that time has made and cannot heal. You dart away from our hands and yet lie down as prisoner of our eyes: waiting there, head on paws, searching, waiting with that still faculty that looks towards me like an amber dream. Dear animal, there is no place for my love to enter except by my hands which find you, my palms and fingers which ruffle and shake your fur. Yet now we live together many years apart, expressing this tragedy of distance this joy of breathing the same air

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COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group