Heart’s Ease

Once upon a timeless dream, I was walking through a dirt-brown desert punctuated only here and there with a small skeletal shrub. These sparse sentinals emerged blackened from the soft cinnamon sand, their crooked little limbs frozen like scorched corals. The sky was huge and close and coloured with cool bright tones – turquoise above, fading to aqua and stained lavender at the horizon. I was naked as usual, and this bright arid wilderness showed no sun or moon to shed light on the time or on my skin. The sand I trod upon was brown, reddish and amber, and it shimmered with glints of silver and gold. All was lifeless and deafeningly quiet.

As I walked, my heart began to feel heavy in my chest. My legs found it more and more difficult to support my weight and my feet were sinking as I walked through the sand. On I walked; slowly, determinedly towards that faraway horizon, but my heart grew larger and more leaden as I advanced, and it soon got so burdensome inside me that I had to stop. I put my hands over my heart and opened my chest up with my hands, pulling my ribs apart and out from the centre. As I felt around inside the seams of this bursting cavity, about half a dozen dusty and gaunt brown sparrows came flittering around me. I pulled out handfuls of my heart to feed them with my flesh. It was soft and sticky, and they alighted on my outstretched hands to feast. I kept pulling out fistfuls of my heart to nourish these hungry, skinny creatures and they grew more shapely before my eyes.

When there was almost none left, I pulled out the meagre remains and ate of myself. My heart was sweet and chewy and tasted like plump Medjool dates. The taste put a smile on my face and I licked my glistening fingers clean with glee. I folded my chest back over itself and, feeling so much lighter, began to walk towards the horizon. My gait was effortless, my hips swung and the birds danced around me cheekily, guiding me on.

Defender Of The Faith – 12.10.12