Sinful Sunday Week 97: Poetry & Prufrock
I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day really (as my recent return to Gutter Magazine will tell you). However, I am a hopeless romantic and a big fan of love. When I think of love, I often think of poetry.
The authors so tortured with love, lament, and loss that the only way they can express themselves is to write it down. They are afraid of the sound it may make when it leaves their own mouths, but relish in the gorgeous beauty when others speak their words out loud. That, my lovelies inspired my Sinful Sunday post.
And I have known the eyes already, known them all –
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then How should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
–“The Love Song of J. Alfred Pruforck” by T.S. Eliot
Not only is Eliot one of my ultimate favorite authors, but I fully believe that the eyes of a person are a valuable insight. You can see so much when fully gazing into someone’s eyes: their honesty, their vulnerability, their love, their desire, and, ultimately, their humanity. As Molly‘s rules always denote “Sinful Sunday is all about the image.” So, look into my eyes, and tell me what you see 🙂
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