|my hands were the first to go. burnt black, they crumbled away at her lightest touch. but such acts of self-immolation were a necessity in completing this journey (this dream) so she (my guide) took my arms, took the flesh off my legs, and after several miles, she said, “we can not bear any dead weight further,” and with her sharp bone knife she drew a red border between worlds. on one side of this red line my body fell. on the other my conscious head was borne away upon my guide’s arms. i tried to thank her but my tongue got tied in knots of thick blood-clotted vowels. “don’t,” she instructed as she drew the hair away from my eyes, “just see, just see, just watch and see.”
what i saw then, peering into a scene framed within black branches, was a man with thumb and forefinger ringed around a red flower into whose yellow center he whispered a phrase.
suddenly i was aware of my life draining away in drips and drops. i felt gravity tugging at my eyelids. i was tired, i was tired, i was so tired. i seemed to fall asleep for an instance. and in the next instance i awoke in the body of my guide. i studied the head in my arms. “you will be a receptacle for this moment,” i said to it (to me, i suppose), “and i will bury you somewhere safe. and whatever pestilence ravages this landscape, you will remain unspoiled, under watchful moon, under warmth of earth, under understanding flowers.” with my thumb i tapped the place above the closed eyes. “bear in mind what you have seen.” i buried that vessel as i have buried others like it in other dreams. i have done this because there is always the possibility of someday. it may hurt to dig up the past, but someday an act of self-exhumation may become a necessity. someday if i should ever lose my mind i will have to take to these dark places with my spade and unearth the most sacred and secret parts of me. someday if i should ever lose my mind i will wake my sleeping heads and beg them to share with me, to sing to me. “someday if i should ever lose my mind,” i say as soil sifts through my bloodstained fingers, “someday.”
posted by susie on Tuesday, February 26, 2013, at 7:29 am. Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.