I just finished reading The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison and found it deeply disturbing. I understand the author's aim, and I'm convinced she made an incredible work. It's not a comfortable book, it's brutal. I cannot write a review, so I rather share a poem I wrote based on my impression of Toni's novel.
She
She
Destruction.
Cruelty, the bottom of it.
What is beauty?
A posture.
The body is just a carrier.
The body hinders us.
A lie.
We are accomplices, mere accessories.
Genetics, beautiful science.
Struggles.
Unloved.
Sadness, and a girl.
Humanity.
Not only wounds.
Deep cuts, deep and painful.
A girl behind.
A girl there.
An abandoned girl.
Nothing more but a girl.
A creature.
No humanity.
And destruction.
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| ⒸAlexandre Semine |
(Acompañamiento:
Eels - Beautiful freak)
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