March 26, 2010
Do you remember running? I remember the ground pulsing from legions of soldiers hurrying after us as if the fate of the entire planet were at stake.
(Because it was)
Even that time the gods deposited us in that little river village where livelihoods depended on those barrels floating with the current, and the diseased miser on top of the hill, that lifetime, our “smallest” job, was such a gift. All the time we had between us. All those years, all those afternoons lying in the fields, among the dandelions and cattails, under those big blue skies.
Not like that bloody sky in the desert. That was you and me on top of the pyramid as the king’s armies stormed the steps. It was me who stabbed you through the heart, and then on the sword I fell. That was the only way they could have us.
When our energies mingle, woman, it’s the same story over and over throughout history: Revolution.
Want to know a secret? (This next one is the last)