I blinked my eyes, three times, for the very first time
It had been thirty six years since I saw this world
Alive, after a couple of minutes I could manage to turn my head and saw nothing but screens, covered in impermeable foil, I guess to protect the frozen viewers’ eyes
Truth is hard to take without the armor of ice surrounding your flesh, in a body that lacks connective tissue
A body that was absent on the day Great Mothers’ embrace was supposed to lay its fleshy foundation and kiss its soul awake
I have had such a body
I have felt such an absence, freezing up the insides of my empty veins, leaving no sign of usage, no traces of blood, nothing but hollowed out space
I tried to cover it up with hashish and cake, with the radiant sweat from mens’ limbs grabbing my waist, with worshiping disembodied spirit, like He taught me so well how to do
And now
After years and years of working away the days, trying to chip away my armor of ice with an iceprick the size of a grass blade in November
She showed me another way
Unpaved but mine to take, leading me through the darkening heat, melting the ice with Her burning torch in my steady but trembeling hand until drops of locked wisdom started melting out of my thawing matter
Oh how a drop drip drip dripped all the way down, running its thickening substance across my face, to my tongue and my belly, my lips and my toes, my cheeks and my tighs, my knees and my neck, my back and my hands to the tips of my elegant fingers
And then
A pond of meltwater spontaneously sprung from my feet
Mine to drink from, to wash at, to play with and swim through, to float around in and explore the depths of
It is a pond to discover the reality of what a life of my own will be like: a justness of being, alive.
