“It’s hard to write you. The surf is too loud. The beach is too crowded, and you’re too much in my heart to put anything down. . . What can I say? You have gone deep inside of me. I want to sing when I remember all our work of love.”
Leonard Cohen s letters to Marianne ( article about )
Your letters, they all say that you’re beside me now,
Then why do I feel alone?
I’m standing on a ledge and your fine spider web,
Is fastening my ankle to a stone.
So Long, Marianne.
— by Leonard Cohen
a poetics of confusions 