When did we begin,
pretending instead of giving,
only lending our hearts to one another,
denying never condescending,
to our feelings for each other.
When did we leave,
the hope of our love behind,
begin to stare each other blind,
forcing each other into the lonliness,
of losing the comfort we shared,
Why did we begin pretending?
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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I undestand you...your heart, your questions and your pain. You will never feel this way again. I promise.
Love you,
susan