Butterfly Effect - ressourcesfeministes

51
Death
for Maureen O’Connor
it is midnight time to gather around your death you sit on
the couch where you sat just last week when we talked the
lambskin covers your now-thin shoulders your lesbiansare-everywhere
T-shirt sags where flesh has faded
each performs her own private ritual caressing your
hands your knees your breathless cheeks each communes
with her own silences death is not easy it raises monsters
and fears it reminds us of mortality of fragility
Roisín curls into your body including you in her
conversation she has been with death many times and is
not cowed by her
after you died Maria came to collect your brown felt hat
your clowning hat with its sunflower it sat upon the
speaker as we performed for the opening-night audience
and for you 1
we are each a querent 2 we each take journeys to death on
that night an invisible hand pulled me into a cathedral 3
and as I reached the highest point 4 I muttered to myself
this one’s for you it was the Fool 5 of course