The Coming of Light
by Mark Strand
Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
I don’t know who hurt Sarah Polley, but she sure did hurt me with two of her films (this and ‘Take This Waltz’). These are so beautiful, yet deeply haunting films.
It’s painstakingly aching to see men watch their partners falling out of love with them while also falling in love with someone else. The melancholy of feeling something slip away from fingers while also feeling that your fingers are still intertwined with it.
Alternate title:
Only Lovers Left Alive: Before Sunrise edition
