Prelude to Becoming Holy
The visions begin at six, the lime bitter in your mouth, the elegy for all you once wanted to become breaking across the water like a storm.
The sight, they called it.
This is how a girl becomes holy: first she becomes empty, becomes nothing but absence.
To be a girl is to be an opening, something to be filled, sugar thick on your tongue, but all you are still is wet and empty, mouth open, stoned hole. Catherine, your throat flushed with mint and salt water to cure your desire for softness.The women you knew in the dark, as if we could ever become anything more than after-wound.Catherine, at night, you know, the air holds a place for girls like you.Stars are beautiful only because of their absence in the rest of the sky, because of that stretch of new emptiness. So you think you’ll let the dusk turn, like a rotting pear, until it is as soft and full as teeth?