Fragment XIV

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This work first appeared in Gargoyle, issue #44. Please respect the fact that this material is copyrighted. It is made available here without charge for personal use only. It may not be stored, displayed, published, reproduced, or used for any other purpose without the express consent of the author or artist.

Fragment XIV

Cynthia Tedesco

zero . . . ! . . . just to mean for itself . . . a petal unfolding toward the sun simply because it has to . . . the light . . . warm & sufficient radiance for silent non revered creations . . . it might be life times before we can know the intensities of falling fruit & failures of non-winged destinations never fly back into a heat hazed sky . . . we could be a shimmer of mirage . . . a trick of non-perfection where beauty bears her cruelty to become memory to become beauty . . . again . . . in the archaic gaia gown by shamans of humus for St. John's Wort & chamomile walnut tea & city roses . . . the Overmind of mined shards of terra cotta that puts us to use bracketing infant stems . . . we can see a blaze of euphoria in the alchemical coagulation that forces migrations of zinc & mica light following subtle prisms of elemental flora . . . crimson & indigo & carmine to chase fractal waves . . . those memories waiting to be
beheaded beholding the telepathy of a summer garden & then if we're
awakened to the shock of life . . . memory returns as an isolated prisoner
from a shroud of silence & far away we hear angelus bells greet our cell of wingless clay-shell . . . some of us danced to Orpheus' Lyre as scattering leaves do & now we quicken in rain tears of WATER THAT DOES NOT WET THE HANDS writing our names with each sentencing of botanical life swollen with dew . . . bent & falling into dreams . . . realities released insomniacal & abandoned . . . then aeons later we're unearthed in virgin soil where purity rises from below & beneath the deepest depths in hidden streams of living water gushing over decompositions of twig & stone & leaf & embedded spiders . . . treasure us . . . keep us safe from prying eyes . . . for too soon the
sun rises & the horizon . . . that line of hosannas . . . must swirl diurnally down into all dreams . . . away from stone . . . away from the clay of original blessings

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