frailty

frailty 1 2 3

This feeling: lying on the surface of frozen waters (always cold, like the sweet ice dripping off my spoon into my tongue), face up, palms out, eyes filled with sky the same colour as the depths that whisper in my ears: come back Airah, come home. My skin sizzles with ultraviolet rays. I spray it with protection but it smells rotten and is swallowed. Sand scorching through bare toes. Clear waters, shallow for only a few meters but miss a step and it runs deep. A smooth rock with rings for patterns, thrown back into the sea, put into my pockets but swept away by small, calm waves. Two times, I tried. But two times it slips away, joining the others: the see through, the flat, the iridescent. It knows where it belongs but what about me? I forget the farther I am from the sea. But when I am it, when its atoms latch on to my limbs like magnet, when its fishes swim with the fishes in my chest; it reminds me. It calls me, pulls me. And whispers like a lover gasping for air as he chokes on his own sins: Come back to me.

“ Then she hurried away, and came to the stars, and they were friendly and good to her, each one sitting on its own little chair. When the morning star arose, it gave her a chicken bone, and said, “Without that chicken bone you cannot open the glass mountain, and your brothers are inside the glass mountain.” The girl took the bone, wrapped it up well in a cloth, and went on her way again until she came to the glass mountain. The door was locked, and she started to take out the chicken bone, but when she opened up the cloth, it was empty. She had lost the gift of the good stars. What could she do now? She wanted to rescue her brothers, but she had no key to the glass mountain. The good little sister took a knife, cut off one of her little fingers, put it into the door, and fortunately the door opened. ”

— “The Seven Ravens” by the Brothers Grimm (read it here)

(Source: fairytalemood, via libraryland)

Last Post Next Post