Some poems come easily. Longing and being irreparably in love? Done. The obstinate life of the desert? Mhmm. The canyon towering above me? Effortless. But the uncomfortable, the untouchable – the things buried somewhere in my tissue? Silence.
Wrapping words and sense around beauty of delight and pain feels romantic. An intoxicating spectrum of yearning is evocative, familiar, and rich with eros. Yet, those sticky, dark places that I have yet to define scare me in a way that I am unable to move in and through. It’s akin to the deep sea fish – ugly, misunderstood, and unsettling. They hold a fascination but I feel a strong desire to turn away.
At face value, it defies easy description. The darkness is shapeless yet palpable. And therein lies the mystery… how do you understand something without defining it? How do you go there, tell the truth, and transmute it?
Film & Kay 
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