She is coming.
I heard the gate close in the distance as they let her in. The goats cannot
keep still. The wind blows, and I smell her for the first (?) time. She smells of sweat, of blood,
of milk. Sebum. I can taste her on the wind. My hair stands on end, and my hands
are shaking as I raise the pipes to my lips. At first, I'm afraid that I won't
be able to play. The first notes are a little shaky, but then something bigger
than me takes over, and the music comes pouring out like water into the night
air. My goat friends are jumping around, leaping over each other and squealing.
I continue to play, eyes closed in concentration. The notes rise in pitch, and
the rhythm increases. Not since the contest with Apollo have I played so
ferociously, so determinedly. The wind is blowing harder now, and the goats are whirling in little circles like horned dervishes. Everything is vibrating as I
reach the final glissando. I feel like I'm going to die as the final note
screeches into the supercharged sky.
And then She steps out of the darkness into the moonlight.
The pipes fall from my hands and clatter on my rock.
She...
I have known Her always. I have chased her through time, through space, and she
has eluded me for more lifetimes than I can remember. All the nymphs pale in
comparison to the She before me.
It begins to rain.
She is standing in front of me, radiating moonlight. Her knob of a head is tiny
and featureless, dwarfed by Her mammoth ballooning breasts, hips, and swollen
stomach. Her tiny arms are reaching out to me, begging me to come to Her. She
has no hands.
The goats kneel down in reverence.
Milk drips from Her breasts, and when it hits the ground small white flowers
burst from the soil. Her cavernous vagina opens and I smell wet newborn skin,
blood, grave-smell, rich, fertile soil, fish, and sweet flowers. I am pulled to her
uncontrollably; at once, horribly afraid and ecstatic, compelled and repulsed.
But I have no control.
Her arms wrap around me and I'm enveloped in her flesh as she pulls me
inward. I feel her small arms pulling me tighter and her tapered legs wrapping around me. My face is lost in the dark saltiness of her breasts, and I feel my
body slick with rain, milk, sweat, and blood, as her womb begins to encircle me
like an opening mouth. I drink as the pink milk/blood pours into my mouth and
down my throat. I have never been so thirsty.
I can no longer feel my body. I can no longer feel. A white sphere, transparent shell, begins to form around me as my body curls inward. Juice. Egg. Light.
Her bloody lips open and I am squeezed out, light burning my new eyes, crying.
|
In the Beginning
Take this and drink
Outside
Bacchus
Open Eyes
Flashing Past
Memo
Next Phase
Born Again
