The entire time I was pregnant with Coltrane, it felt as though I had no skin. No borders between myself and the world. I felt everything. Everything. Color had scent, scents had temperatures, when it rained my body wept, and my hair would be filled with clouds. I heard so many thoughts. So many dagger thoughts and news of war and more than once Tashem came to home to find me huddled in a corner, cowering in a closet. For the first time in a long time: afraid. Conscious of the swirling in my body called emotion. I asked Tashem what kind of fools we were to be bringing a child into this chaos. “Weren’t we once innocent,” I ‘d say, “and look at us now.” read more
No comments:
Post a Comment