Bypassed objects that reminded her
She was still falling. Having fallen many,
Many times with no time to be more
Than abruptly aware of the fact an instant
Before crumpling, body supposed to self
That self should be contented to finally
Have accomplished a long, long, ridiculously
Dreamy fall over a period of nearly a decade
Between first swooning and soaring out over
The desert and the last delayed, inevitable
Blackout impact, self no more, never more.
Self castigated body for not finishing the job,
But body protested that body's only job
Was to struggle and try not to die. The fall
Was self's idea in the first place, and if
Body survived landing, no matter the pain,
Body could be considered to have done well.
Self invoked Alice. Why begin to fall at all
If the intention were not to land or wake up
Walking underground with strange beings?
But the objects that fly by us, sighed body,
Are never safe or close to hand. They hit us
And set us spinning. They never match our
Speed. They hurt. You know we have to fail,
Don't you, asked self? Body laughed sourly.
I am the one who will be transformed, who is
Forever being transformed, and if I am ash,
Dissipated under the earth, I return one way
Or another. You're the one lost for good.
Self was silent, unsuccessfully trying to keep
A secret thought from body: I will not return
Because I will be heading somewhere better,
Stranger, happier, and altogether painless,
Although I know I'll never quite make it there.
This matinee dialogue done, puppet bowed.
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