I flew a serpent kite that made an alphabet in the sky. I floated a paper crane across the river in the rain. I walked a mile in a hurricane to milk a cow. I went to where in China you were born. I practiced the arts of cat comfort. I had the work of a spider to do. I wore red ribbons and new black shoes. I made some new friends at the post office. I treated my old friends like bad teeth. I had a dream that floated to the surface like a dead fish. I shivered in cold blood at the dead end. I woke up to pick red hot tomatoes in the sun.
There is no God in heaven but the Queen of the sky, the devil's bride who waits in patient waiting, turning the tables on the sons of the house, carving the candles for the feast of the longest night.
We are dancing back to back. Our memories are lost in the stars. The way is crowded from here to another world.
One day I will raise my castle outside the walls of Holy Toledo, where the tongue of the Empire would have our teeth drawn one by one. Men who will never marry have blood thinner than water. Spinsters and stepmothers attend the public dissections. Troops of demons munching toads patrol the streets. Honor is not ours to keep.
Stakes and stones, the Hangman sets my broken bones. The rent collector with his locks and keys, knows nothing of Anatomy and Chemistry.
Sleepwalkers and daydreamers race by barefoot, in green coats and red crosses, tolling the bells of Ever and Never.