From "To My Youth" by Vladimir Nabokov:
We used to believe so firmly, you and I, in the unity
of existence; but now I glance back–and it is
astounding–how impersonal in color, how unreal in
pattern you have become, my youth.When one examines the matter, it is like the haze of
a wave between me and you, between the shallows and the
drowning–or else I see a receding highway, and you
from behind as you pedal right into the sunset on your semi-racer.
The poem in its entirety here.
(Charcoal drawings of waves by Robert Longo, part of his series Monsters, via Alice Yoo)
The Dish 