transaction
Every other weekend, the journey made, slow drive motorway climbing the gentle mountain, his first-born wrapped as a present all shiny and clean, ready to give to the gods, the shell mother, echo echo. This is no offering, a necessary loan if you like - see now the glow of the child's smile melting the windscreen, imagining rain inside the car, the slow markers of a familiar hell-road as so many birds follow the grey trail, getting there, as promised and then the clean sweep of this transaction, just want it over with, to come home and breathe, the quiet, the lack of daddy daddy this or that until it is time to fetch him home, small hero, the mirror-child, prince of smiles. Quick child, come home now, you are the sweet air of gods and butterflies.
posted by Cathy @ 1:54 AM
<< Home