Our conflict was a conflict written in history already, built into synapses and made of rage. These words I write are loaded with the force of what has already happened. Disabled syllables incapable of openness.

The priest taught me if someone was angry with me than I had done something wrong. Taught me to do everything I could to not allow that kind of conflict, to be meek and doubtful and also seething with rage all at the same impossible time.

No hay comentarios.: