You laid me right there, on the undressed bed
Before the bare window, through which the light
Never seemed to change from dull winter grey
But the clouds, dark and dense, rolled and creeped and
Stretched into the room, like fingers of God —
And you, you hovered overhead, and smiled,
Exfoliating me, ‘til I was raw
And real, and human, underneath it all
We rocked in rhythm, and it felt divine . . .
And I thought of my life, and my children
And how they’d fare were I suddenly gone —
And those curling, rolling, reaching fingers
Undulated through the sky
And the only words that slipped into my
Dizzy and elated mind were, “Don’t stop —
“Fuck Me Until I Die.”
And suddenly I could not breathe at all
You asked me if I needed a paper bag
For carbon dioxide and I said, no!
Because I was not a tree, but you thought
That was why people breathed into a bag —
Through tears, I broke into a wild-eyed smile,
I told you that was just a lie, and laughed,
And hyperventilated ‘til I cried —
I’ve never felt so happy in my life.
As a single parent, Katharina Bezushko spent several years pouring her love of language into the ears of her children, and now she is endeavoring to share her words with a new audience.