Look over your shoulder for the hustle of words.

Monday, January 22, 2007

The Two Women

In the woman there is not one, but two. Two women. Do not mistake this. Yes, ropes are around her, but they are only ropes. Look instead for the spectacle she is; the something-much-more-vivid they become as soon as she is in them. In a pile, the bonds are fibre. Fibre decays. But she won't wither - she is eternal, she is what fills the rigging and makes it live and s t r e t c h and strain. Her calls are deep as one bereaved and they give these ties purpose. In this woman, there is not one, but two. Do not mistake this. One is flesh, dispensable like ropes. One lives forever, her epic bonds delicious, snapped between the jaws of aperture.

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