She is standing on my lids
And her hair is in mine
She is the form of my hands
And the color of my eyes,
She is swallowed in my shadow
Like a stone against the sky
Her eyes are always open
And she does not let me sleep
In the light of day her dreams
Make suns evaporate,
Make me laugh, cry and laugh,
And speak when I have nothing to say.
This week’s poem is Tristan Tzara’s Way. I hope it inspires you!
What is this road that separates us,
Across which I extend the hand of thought?
A flower is written at the tip of every finger
And the end of the road’s a flower that walks beside you
This is the last post in a series of four. I hope you’ve enjoyed them all!
Short story Markheim.
This is considered to be one of Robert Louis Stevenson’s more macabre tales. The ending in particular is a great interpretation of fate and human nature. It’s an unusual read, but interesting throughout. The devil can teach a criminal many things. Good versus bad, so they say.
Interesting insights: This story was originally published in The Broken Shaft: Tales of mid-ocean in 1885. The book was edited by Sir Henry Norman.
What’s your favourite Robert Louis Stevenson story?
Not read enough today? Try Ambrose Bierce’s A Diagnosis of Death!
Internal Inspection by Jacek Yerka.