- Vol. 04
- Chapter 08
The Big Dipper
Man holding knife cuts another's throat; we are told to rinse our bodies with salt
water fresh from the sea. In the man's act, the head comes off clean like a tidy
severed thread, blood pools like a drink of rose syrup. In my faith system, we are
told such bravery shown in dreams is from a man of haq - honour and righteousness,
and I feel this will be my answer to him when he asks of the time crocheted in
unravel-able paunches; I will tell him of the dreams I see, weave a thousand nights'
stories like parables: fresh sea water bottled as wispy echoes. Come clean
in truth, there are crying fish slicing own scales. This will be my word in circular
insistence - he was a siren on the rocks, forked tail like nettles sweeping tides.