One clear night while the others slept, I climbed
the stairs to the roof of the house and under a sky
strewn with stars I gazed at the sea, at the spread of it,
the rolling crests of it raked by the wind, becoming
like bits of lace tossed in the air. I stood in the long
whispering night, waiting for something, a sign, the approach
of a distant light, and I imagined you coming closer,
the dark waves of your hair mingling with the sea,
and the dark become desire, and desire the arriving light.
The nearness, the momentary warmth of you as I stood
on that lonely height watching the slow swells of the sea
break on the shore and turn briefly into glass and disappear ...
Why did I believe you would come out of nowhere? Why with all
that the world offers would you come only because I was here?
When I read this poem, I feel lucky. Lucky because I've always wanted to ask those last questions of someone who would answer me "simply because you are there." Because I've always wanted to desire someone in a way that was completely reciprocated. And because now I know that there is one person who would say that to me, and to whom I could honestly answer the same. Sometimes I ask Dan why he loves me, and (after joking around a bit) he says "because I'm Dan and you're Kelley. That's just the way it is." Simple as that.
Over the weekend, I finally watched Bright Star. I thought it was a wonderful movie, full of lovely images, beautiful words and all of those amazing period costumes. I loved that it felt like the progression of a real romance, with good days and bad days that alternated depending on forces beyond the control of the two lovers, but that (as Keats says in the movie) they built a web between them, attached to but separate from the world.
Most of all, I loved the distinct feeling of intimacy that pervaded so many of the scenes. The two main characters never make love, but this seeming lack imbued their gestures with a great deal of longing and desire, with a knowing sensuality that both of them obviously registered. The scene where I felt most impressed by this was when Fanny took off a key that she'd been wearing around her neck and handed it to John. She slowly lifted it out of the front of her dress and placed it in his hand and then they both stood staring at it, knowing it had (in a way) been more physically intimate with her than he had. Then she took the key out of his palm and used it to unlock the chest where his things were stored. My heart skipped a beat.
All of that being said, I know its not for everyone, my supervisor thought that it was terrible. All I know is that I felt compelled to watch the movie twice...in a row...and cried at the end both times.
Have you seen it? What did you think?