hny, remember here, you are pygmalion. In reversion to the wishes of judge solomon, you have a decree.
honey, step under the water. I looked up and the earth started to boil slow-then-fast and there was metal and light and she said
"close your eyes."
two people must not cry together at once. You must allow for freya crying here, in this atrium where the moss might grow.
"i feel it"
it was warm and my hair-th softened. touch-teaching: young boy's learning, was learned, learned-through.
in a manner that was notfecundnotfachenorfetch and in refusal caught, the simple joking human was tasked with traversing through the night, young as he may be. there are 3 trees: figcedarholly that one must promistificate to. would they hurt freya's companions, harmless as they may be as well?
SJH wonders the order of words and hopes to present them in the right order. Past the cold gates, past the tributary, past the moss lush, past the peeli-waali, SH must make his first forbidden choice here.
"the bark," he thinks,
eadha, the temptation that surrounds me. I must have nothing, hearing or anything else. Crann creathach listens to me and so it must answer.
"fianna cries, heralding the meaning of this age. would you let me past you?"
dubh-dearg-bán, the three colors named, eff (breath), sea (waves), aitch (ache). you must listen to me too.
You have been named obsjoned, and sorrowgiven. The wiry birds see your childrenheart from the womb. Your birth was suggested by the blowing of a conch. Slow, jigantic, heavy words for tower-boy who sees nothing knows nothing teaches himself through error.
"I want a girl with 3 colors."
That is fianna, creative and human, daughter of the earth—- unattainable wanting is death.the geis is placed not on him or her. the two are now disguised together. naoiseardenainle, three brothers of one fate are seen under the geise threat. The king promises a solace to SJH, hidden away in the tower. One cannot be exiled forever. at mancha, seven things occur all at once and seven times each, in the process of his betrayed betrothal to fianna. The sojourned houseprisoner throws himself into her grave, the SJH grows mute excusing the one who kills fianna. The next 5 are in order of probability:
SJH grows mute and dies of grief
SH becomes stone
SJ becomes crann creathach.
SJH and fianna become two yew trees and are cut upon intertwining
SJH sings once last time and becomes stone
slits, transforms, cuts, beckons, calls, fries into being. the story is told again and the three brothers become past present and future and honey starts crystallizing into the world around them. the raven is cedar, the blood is holly, and the snow is aspen. there are two trees: ones that warn and ones that encourage. Geis takes the spot and the trembling is now and forever.
"The edges of the flesh culled halo upon us" he says as he walks down the path. Roots intersect as rhizome, all pointsconnectedtooneanothereverpresenteverbreathingandwhollywonderous withoutseparationandthisiswhatbecomesentanglement. It is the start of life. Hunger overtakes the boy who has not yet become Man. "i must bathe before i eat," he thinks. the wash-river, the bath-tributary, the Chenango bull thistle water of life next to him. Water washes well wet walloping down mouth tongue teeth throat swallow. SJH knows about the fruit trees along the river and how to consume the gift. EVE makes itself available for his consumption. Elliciting vicious emotions, he opens his mouth wide and fastens it to Bathsheba, the holy fruit.
"First child, he," thinks is out of sin and must be given away for breaking the fast.
She knows that he asks for one of two. Everything that is hers is his too. EVE cries, now she cannot bring him back. Once broken from the branch, it is devoured by the named DB. It cuts her. She pierces, placating the phallus now poisoned by puritan pssssssssssss. DB must bleed now too.
Daunted and Broken, the road widens further ahead, before it comes to the cedar-that-does-not-rot. DB acknowledges the ancient smell, unchanging and realizes the mountain that has climbed to get here. Along the way, the snow was white-pale-quartzlike and he could imagine the sap, sticky and sweet. It is warmer here. Spring-time is almost here and the woods will smell like incense and the temple he used to visit as a child. His chest expands as he takes deep, heavy breaths, looking for a spot to keep his burden. He lays down on a patch of grass, sharp, pointy, damp. He looks up to the sky to try and find the reason for its strong amber hue so late in the afternoon, realizing that it was the rain that made the sky exhibit its hue. He drifts away to sleep oh so slowly, his cheeks flushed with white-pink and the scent of the before-world. Every Visiting Evening, she comes to pray to the tree, night-blooming as her presence approaches. She is beevisited and leafcovered and flowerdrenched. DB learns the sounds of the feet that Eve scurries with in excitement. He is excited to kneel down at it and lotion it with the honey of the surrounding areas. Their meeting was as if fate itself set their paths to be intertwined. The shepherd and his soon to be nymph-wife, caretaker of the cedar-that-does-not-rot. The dulled blade allows itself to be cleaned with the pitter patter of the rhythm of rainfall. More than the sound, he comes to realize the blessing of petrichor, and how dirty and water marry to create mud. It is love that binds the two together and so he allows himself to be carved into the sacred tree without much forethought. DB allows himself to be enchanted by the grass, dirt, trees, leaves, bark, twigs, branches, ants-in-the-dirt, mud, grasshoppers, butterflies, beetles, ladybugs, rain, sound of rain, smell of rain, cicadas, sound of cicadas, leaves falling, leaves regrowing, leaves changing colors, and all other insects, flowers, wasps, bees, and flora and fauna that exist there. He has been dour biding his time, preventing the thought of change that surrounds him in all circumstances. While the growth marches on, he is still limited by the thoughts of the Freya that once Cried Human to his soul and wonders what this time means to him..
"Is there anything I have done to make you like this?" she asks. David of Bathsheba is stumped. "No." He does not have an answer for her.
"Does my presence hurt you?" she pleads. DB is stumped. "No." He does not have an answer for her.
"Will you go back to where you came from?" Damned and Broken.
DB feels the ever present need to ask the cedar-that-does-not-rot for its blessing regarding his old female companionship like Helen. There is still a chance he could complete his promise. Would Eve have to disappear for FCH to take hold again? No, he would have to change too. DB wanted to puke the fruit and become SJH again.