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Mnemosyne
- Southern Illinois University Press
- Chapter
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64 M N E M O S Y N E They are happy, they are just beginning. They sit and talk about their need for simplicity, and the tension between them grows, the way iron filaments are drawn by a magnet. Before he kisses her, he notices the curves of her breasts beneath the black crinoline dress; then how everything ceases except the touch of what is sensual. He looks at her face in the sun, the small blue veins that etch her closed eyelids, after he opens his, the beads of sweat above her lips. This is the beginning of their learning what is sublime: how they stand on East Beach, and look over at Block Island; how they watch the green sea spread out at low tide, the surf entreating them with the adagio of what is susurrant; how they hold each other against the wind that doesn’t appear to ripple the water. ...