Violet Crown, a fable

It took a long time for the dreams to come back.

(The dreams took a long time to come back.)

Her parrot knew before anyone.

The city of the violet crown.

No one escapes the labyrinth. Not even the dissolute rich.

The oracle sighed, and filled her pen with blue ink:

I know you intimately; I know the way your eyes move,
across the landscape. I realize how we live. It’s not a sin;
you want the love you got in the beginning. You want to
change your size, your shape, and your life. Where will
you be drawn, and in what order? One woman you know
will stop at the color green, another woman dreams
of strangers as she sleeps next to her husband of fifty years.
That man will drink his coffee black, that one will slap
his daughter so hard she feels her cheekbones vibrating
for hours. Remember before you were born; remember
not having to breathe? Imagine that stillness, that beauty
of the womb. Let me remind you. It was shielded
from the world, no sharp edges anywhere. You and you
and you and you… your taut plum of a heart beat.
One day we will be there again, our blood will soar,
the sparkle sparkle sparkle of life. The moonlight there
will be as pale and as reflective as new snow.
Your worry-lines will gradually fall away. To forget
your longing, you agonize daily, hourly: the beans
or the meatloaf? The blue shirt or the yellow? Toward the sea…
or the mountains? Marry Paul or James? As the crow flies,
or the long, winding road? We were together, you and I,
even when you thought no one could see — I watched
the way you lied, cooked the books, phoned for drugs,
delivered Chinese take-out. You made yourself
important, taller, richer, more attractive. Time for courage,
time for facts. You have always been, are, will be loved.