The Turning I. My sweet darlings, however did you stay afloat for so long and never suspect you were built to breathe underwater? Why did you never toss thoughts around in three dimensions, never loose them like dragonflies into the deep sky? How could you fear falling? Didn’t you see the spiders stringing safety nets across the earth every day, just in case? II. Instead, you tore at this world, and I watched. I felt the air’s grim thickening, saw the waters rise. You were huddled at the precipice—at the very brink, my loves—and still bellowing for more. What crucial inspiration turned you at the last? I'll never know what broke over you, and with what calamity, clamor or grace— but when you knelt, as one, it was a mighty sight. You placed your hunger on the ground and left it to lie among the gadgetry of old logics, beside the corpses of cruelty and greed. You were exquisite to me then, long-legged and bright-eyed, built of gravel and stardust; oh, my sweet, funny l…
Listen to this episode with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Wild Inventures to listen to this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.
