Of Grammatology | Poetry, Reflection & Intangible Desire

“Mirrors would do well to reflect a little more before sending back images.”

— Jean Cocteau

Of Grammatology

What have I learned from you, my beloved Dulcinea?

What do I owe you, if anything?

Is it the fact that the signs you demand for me to

assert the language game,

the infinitely woven intricacies of words words words

That you deserve in order for us to get a glimpse

Of your beautiful face, your hands, your adored hands,

your bare breast in front of a mirror in a cheap motel,

the perspiring flesh upon which I have slid my fingers

downwards in the hope of attaining the crux of you, when in fact I

never succeeded getting there, simply because you constitute a

puzzle that I can’t resolve,

which I will never figure out because you so cleverly,

In a consuetudinary sleight of hand, knife in hand, occult from all of us

As you and I venture into that long, labyrinthine maze that

Is our lives in this diabolical grammatology?

Tell me, please, my beloved, what I indeed owe you.

Or else what I have learned from you.

If anything at all—

Aside from having gazed in awe at your bare breasts

In the looking glass of a cheap motel.

Which is nothing but an intangible image that slips

through my wet fingers.

A reflection—

At that..