A Brief History of Yes by Micheline Aharonian Marcom

Author:Micheline Aharonian Marcom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Columbia University Press
Published: 2013-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Three

1.

And she would not like love’s wound. And the wound pains her today on the drive she takes up the coast to arrive at Salt Point on an American holiday which she is not celebrating so that she thought that the wound itself was bigger than any other thing or of her organs or of the light on the outside of the moon. She is inside of it, as if inside the suicide’s well. When he said, “I am not in-love with you, Mariazinha,” and “You can no longer stay here; I don’t want you here any longer. Please give me back the key to my apartment.”

Is Christ’s the same selfsame? His passion. She would have held the boy, she would have suckled him, she suckled her own child for more than three years, her son’s gaze was made upon his mother’s brow and breast. She turned to the blue-eyed lover and she took out the blood the heart muscle the breast and she gave it over to him, gave him over; and when he said, not saying, when he looked at her after she arrived to his apartment, his not-saying look which already told everything, the four hour conversation afterwards only so that she could cry on his worn blue sofa and look out at the lights in the distance and upon the bridge spanning the bay like two arms reaching out across water, for his look already: withdrawn, tight, an animal’s look when it has backed itself into a corner and its back pressed against the wall and its eyes pressed back into its eye sockets deeply and black and the oncoming terror of the attacker making the animal bare its teeth, rip out its tongue and eyes to pieces, attack first and kill first from the corner where he crouches.

She said to him, “Lover, lie in my lap one last time.” And he afraid, laid his head in the lap of his beloved and Maria stroked his head and she told him that they ought only to enjoy this lying together and “Would you like to fuck me?” she said. “No, I am not feeling like that,” he said. “Lie on top of me then, give me your body’s weight and your unaroused sex’s weight and your head which holds the mind and the mean money’d critical thoughts which have taken you from me today.” He lay in Maria’s lap and she stroked his hair and she would have sung to him, and the bay in the distance, the lighted eye-blinking lights dotted yellowish upon the black back of the city night for the last time for these lovers together.

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