it makes me cry
More than one woman has fallen in love with the Berlin Wall. There has been at least one marriage ceremony between a person and the Eiffel Tower. The women communicate with the objects; they love and their love is returned. I don’t like to use the word ‘it’, one woman says, because he is not an inanimate object. He is an archer’s bow.
I know a human magpie. He collects objects from what he calls the natural world. Rocks, stones, twigs, branches, knots, bird’s nests and eggshells and seed pods, gumnuts and ‘haycorns’. When he was three, he brought home a Jacaranda pod, hiding it beneath his bed in a paper bag. When he opened it a month later, it had burst in the bag. Its tiny opaque seeds were released into the air between us and settled in our hair, on the bedspread, the floor, our fingertips. I swept…
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