mundane circles

So Rita seemed at first one person, soon another and then another, morphing week after week, and year after year, eventually going beyond my imagination to form a whole, generally tedious self-fulfilled and busy with the mundane circles of her life, lived far away, giving infinitely less time considering those days and this performance than I have, watching and dreaming, making up lives to suit every one of the cardboard cutout dimensions I thought I saw in watching, listening to this strange, tiny, volatile woman as she played the notes within her voice.

David Cain, Song of Songs

Advertisements

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in literature, quotes, reading and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s