Persephone (Father Stands for Dictator in the Age of Eternal Return)
He asked me this year again. If I would come down and be his queen.
I think I will say no.
Whenever I wander those caves, I am deluded that the darkness will be without end. Then I eat three seeds, give birth to myself, grow old and die. Seems like all within a week.
What he doesn't know is that it's like that, too, up here. Even now that I am saying no.
He lives in the caves of the West, by the sea.
I wore seven veils the first time. It was the tradition of my tribe. I was always the foreigner in his house of worship. At the turn of time when it got warmer, they laid blankets of flowers at my feet on the walk back. They covered biers for their dead king at the same time, and I did not understand. All I was able to do was walk.
Walk through the caves without illumination.
We made love and it was a galaxy of void. I understood not. I understood not what he wanted from me in my youth, when we were so different. He will be dead soon. He still guffaws when he asks me. A departure from his usual.
I couldn't give him a child. I gave birth to myself.
I am an old woman who tells stories to travellers for a coin.
"This is a silly game," I tell him.
They never know the meaning of "not this time."
He was somber, and loved to dress as a mourner. He had a house, and lived alone in it. He loved to be silent. His lack of words was the litany of my madness.
I could not live with empty. We women are too used to being full. I tired of walking the same road. He brooded and thought, and was permitted to stay so same. I got wrinkled. My hair turned gray. My skin cracked. Do you think I want to be alone in my hard lessons?
We truly cannot do the same for eternity. I loved him only as an arrangement.
You have no permit from the gods for sameness just because you are the god himself.
Eat
Consume
Re-sprout
Annihilate my doubt.
My womb is the punishment of observing eternal repetition. No, Friedrich Nietzsche. I am sorry. I cannot give birth to a singularity.
I think I will say no.
Whenever I wander those caves, I am deluded that the darkness will be without end. Then I eat three seeds, give birth to myself, grow old and die. Seems like all within a week.
What he doesn't know is that it's like that, too, up here. Even now that I am saying no.
He lives in the caves of the West, by the sea.
I wore seven veils the first time. It was the tradition of my tribe. I was always the foreigner in his house of worship. At the turn of time when it got warmer, they laid blankets of flowers at my feet on the walk back. They covered biers for their dead king at the same time, and I did not understand. All I was able to do was walk.
Walk through the caves without illumination.
We made love and it was a galaxy of void. I understood not. I understood not what he wanted from me in my youth, when we were so different. He will be dead soon. He still guffaws when he asks me. A departure from his usual.
I couldn't give him a child. I gave birth to myself.
I am an old woman who tells stories to travellers for a coin.
"This is a silly game," I tell him.
They never know the meaning of "not this time."
He was somber, and loved to dress as a mourner. He had a house, and lived alone in it. He loved to be silent. His lack of words was the litany of my madness.
I could not live with empty. We women are too used to being full. I tired of walking the same road. He brooded and thought, and was permitted to stay so same. I got wrinkled. My hair turned gray. My skin cracked. Do you think I want to be alone in my hard lessons?
We truly cannot do the same for eternity. I loved him only as an arrangement.
You have no permit from the gods for sameness just because you are the god himself.
Eat
Consume
Re-sprout
Annihilate my doubt.
My womb is the punishment of observing eternal repetition. No, Friedrich Nietzsche. I am sorry. I cannot give birth to a singularity.
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