Their Fine Incisions

[Philomena]

Winter 53, 512 AV
The Extremes of Early Morning
The Dreams of Philomena Lefting
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It is so cold here, cold and wet and still.
The earth beneath is cold and hard and stiff,
It's frozen, melting into snow-stiff flesh
Of arms, of back-flesh through a linen shift

//But, Why is it so cold?// She thought the words.

The Evalin stood over: slender, tall,
Her face a shifting tide against the beach
Of her identity.
In dreaming-time,
Her voice is soft and sweet, the way it purred
In dreams since Minnie was a little girl,
"Yes, darling. It is cold. It must be cold,
We do not want your blood to rise too quick."

The Evalin leaned over close: consumed
The vision of the Minnie-wren. Her hair
Both long and dark fell down around her face,
To stroke the throat and cheeks of Minnie-Wren.
A shimmering halo, filtering the light,
That burned from off the sharp, reflective snow.
She spoke again, her black tongue murmuring
The words in tones held soft and soothing-low

"Hush, darling, hush, and I will care for you.
Hush, darling, hush. I will repair your heart,
And leave you softer, freer, held
Against the gentle comfort of my breast."

The Evalin undoes three button-holes
In Minnie's grey, uncertain linen shift,
To lay the breastbone bare against the sky.
She strokes it once with cold, smooth fingertips,
And smiles with gentle kindness on her face -
An angel in the halo of her hair.
She sets a knife against the cold-stiff skin,
And Minnie hears the sound before she feels
The sharp, precision tearing of her flesh.

She starts, begins to rise. The Evalin
Sets down the knife and leans in, cheek-on-cheek,
And gently presses down the frightened girl,
With sussurating mumurs in her ear,

"Hush, darling, hush, and I will care for you.
Hush, darling, hush. I will repair your heart,
And leave you softer, freer, held
Against the gentle comfort of my breast."

And Minnie looks to the gentle face,
That shifts like tides upon a sandy shore,
And leans to give the kiss of sacred trust,
The trust of children, to The Evalin.
And lays down, frightened, trying to brave,
To screw her eyes shut as the knife moves on.
It makes her shiver, slipping flesh and bone,
The pain of cleaving twain what once was one -

But then the pain is gone, and Minnie looks.
The Evalin draws out a linen purse,
Wrapped tight in butcher paper, bound in twine,
And bloodied with the red of Minnie's breast.
Her fingers, soft as moth-dust, moon-beam-light,
Unwrap the parcel, then unhasps the latch
And reach in gently to withdraw:

A bird.
The Wrenmae bird flails wildly in her hands,
ITs wing is broken, and its eyes stitched shut.

A pair of coral-lips - a Lanie-smile.
The cracks across them shivering them to bits.

And last a little doll, all batter-bruised,
With hands wrapped round the parchment and the Quill.

"Hush, darling, hush, and I will care for you.
Hush, darling, hush. I will repair your heart,
And leave you softer, freer, held
Against the gentle comfort of my breast."

The bird, she binds up tight in Minnie's braid -
Constraint draws down the Wren-bird's panicked flight.
It rests, then, warm and pulsing, just behind
The flesh of Minnie's ears, ITs frightened song
A musette for her feet to dance the days.

The lips she lifts, but they are too far gone.
She places them into a pestle bowl,
And crushes into vermillion ink,
Then plucks a feather from the Wren-bird's tail.
And drawing back the cloth of Minnie's shift,
She dips, and writes in ink of memory-kiss,
A name, upon the flesh of Minnie's ribs:

"Alanza-mae" in broad and flowing strokes,
"Alanza-mae" in letters like the hands
Of southern breezes running o'er the skin.

There is ink left, and Minnie takes the pen
And, writes, beside, the name of 'Evalin.'
And looks to her with frightened, worship-eyes,
The Evalin leans close, the lashes flit
And flutter shut, to let her kiss the lids.

The doll is placed inside again, and smiles,
And strings the sinews, arteries and veins
Across the framework of a silver harp,
And murmuring, she sings a song so low
That even Minnie cannot hear its tune.

"Hush, darling, hush, and I will care for you.
Hush, darling, hush. I will repair your heart,
And leave you softer, freer, held
Against the gentle comfort of my breast."