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The Four of Swords

Posted on 2004.05.03 at 12:18
Perhaps I was supposed to learn something here. Something about being a hermit in the smoke-branched mountains, something about the anchorite chained to a stone wall. Perhaps I was supposed to lie down on the slab and press my pilgrim's palms together, exalted by a heavenward gaze, and hold a green-cowled moon between my thighs until I was released. The four of swords, blades all round, resting in a mausoleum with hyssop and yarrow on my stomach, and gardenias to swallow up the smell of death.

I think I was supposed to sit in a tree and empty my mind like a glass pitcher. I think I was supposed to go down into the grass, and know the roots by their Christian names.

IfI had memorized the hiragana of my palm-lines, and affixed my tongue to my eyelids, to taste the absence of color, I might have taken from this place a kind of gangrenous peace.

I was supposed to learn something here, something about how to bear this domesticated void within me, and not hear the howl of wind thorugh my lightless womb.


Tony Grist
poliphilo at 2004-05-03 02:40 (UTC) (Link)
I love coming across new words. Hiragana? Is it Japanese? Please explain
Inca Mummy Girl
darkest_peru at 2004-05-03 06:38 (UTC) (Link)
Yes, it's one of the written systems used by Japanese--the one with squiggly lines.

I don't have time to explain it. Just read more.
canonfire at 2004-05-03 03:10 (UTC) (Link)
Wonderful! It does surprise me that our writing styles are so similar.
Inca Mummy Girl
darkest_peru at 2004-05-03 06:39 (UTC) (Link)
Are they? You've never really given me anything of length to read, prose-wise.
Jill Knapp's Other Boyfriend
shellefly at 2004-05-03 06:58 (UTC) (Link)
Palm lines written in the native script of a foreign culture. Whose hands are these really? Whose hands have they become?
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