jolie laide

jolie laide

I started this when I lived in Brooklyn and struggled for grace in a city that grants moments of beauty and ugliness breathtakingly close to one another. Now I live in a place where things are a different kind of ugly and the beauty is pedestrian. I struggle with that.


Sometimes you get a second chance. Sometimes you get your first chance. Sometimes you get a chance you never thought you would have.

I was storming and grating in the bone-yard at the bottom of the hill, and if you were walking on the railroad tracks on the ridge, hopping from tie to tie in the only shoes you thought you deserved, I wouldn't have seen you.

The light is soft here today. It makes lace out of the bridge spanning the bay, blooms the calla lilies in the yard, dissolves edges. If that is the reward for making a woman out of the oubliette, I only want it by half.


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