“In the center of time there is a black hole.”
I’m alone, drifting. I can see nothing, feel nothing. It’s as though I’m in a kind of giant universe-womb and I’m in thrall to this queer and wise voice, which, it seems, is delivering me.
“In the center of time there is a black hole and everything——your love, desire, the beaks of egrets in the river, monkeys and sunflowers, the blackheads on your face, everything, everything——points into this one true center of time.”
I feel so relaxed. Like I’m getting a massage. But terrified also. Here, I think to myself, the blood gets stripped away. Here, I think, the mountains sway.
“Here in the center of time,” the voice continues, “you must stop kicking. Here the fire and the ice twist together like a DNA coil.”
This feels like pre-coitus, in-coitus, and post-coitus. This feels like everything.
“Here everything in the center of time is created and destroyed. Here, my love, I am making you, and I am loving you.”
“Huh?” I think to myself, “This is stupid. This is so damned fucking stupid.”
...I’ve dropped out of a hole. A woman’s screaming. A man in white’s slapping me on the back. And I am filled with breath-light. I am burning. I am alive. I am dead.
“Go forth into the world, my love. Go forth!”
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