No but now, now, simply stay still, standing before a window, one hand on the wall, the other clutching your shirt, and see the sky, a long gaze, but no, gasps and spasms, a childhood sea, other skies, another body.
Grace to know that void.
I feel like breaking things. Fingers, for starters.
I’ll close me eyes. So not to see. Or see only a youth in his florizel, a boy in innocence, peeling a twig, a child beside a weenywhite steed. The child we all love to place our hope in for ever. All men has done something… I will tell you all sorts of makeup things, strangerous. And show you to every simple storyplace we pass… If I lose my breath for a minute or two don’t speak, remember. Once it happened, so it may again.
-Finnegans Wake
