Forgotten Worlds

 

She whispers, “We have different memories of that time.”

A snowflake settles in her hair. He says: “Sweet woman, your hair sea-dazzle gleaming, can you see that time has stopped. While the crow’s day drags on in the darkness, we are the only ones left here on Earth.”

She cannot bear it any longer, “You once asked me to make you a shirt. You had no right! So now I tell you to make me a cambric shirt, without seams nor fine needlework! Wash it in the dry well of your love and see that it is dried on the thorn that has never blossomed! Then you will be a true love of mine.”

 

He does not hear her. He mumbles about his need, “I have your face etched on my mind. I ache when I think of you.”

She said, “You once promised me a farmhouse, cattle, fine horses to race and children. Your bride-price failed. You only get one chance. So take this acre of land between salt water and the sea-sand. Plow it with a ram’s horn, and sow it all over. Reap and barn it in a mouse-hell and thrash it with your shoes! Only then shall you be a true love of mine.”

 

He stands and lashes out. Through slurred voice, he shouts “You are asking the impossible.” 

She said, “I ask you nothing more than you ask of me.”