Eminently Uncool

sometimes there’s a person who you know looks right
who’s skin is fine like a linen cloth
and hair is the color of night 

and they walk
and when they walk
they make ladies turn out their windows and admire 

all the ladies
in the town 
with their secret things 
that they want

you were this man
in the town from which you came 
but this 
this is not your town

and when you speak 
your words are snakes I swat at with swords 
they crawl into parts of me
and I kill them with kindness I cannot afford 

I see you
with the accurate eyes of the sun
you think you’re imprinting yourself in my memory 
a man with the power to teach 

you will never have anything 
or anyone
you want 

least of all 
me 

(snaps)


Unsettled heart. The fetishism of secrecy. These people understood—as I did—the back alleys of the soul, whispers and shadows, money slipping from hand to hand, the password, the code, the second self, all the hidden consolations that lifted life above the ordinary and made it worth living.

The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt (via thebstack)