The Infant

I did a fast and this is what happened: my body and I finally became separate entities.

This has always been a known fact.

I broke my hand before the fast. First, my hand became my child. Then the rest of my body followed suit.

When you start to look at the world around you as a child, your life turns into something else: liquid, gas, light. Now, I'm just hovering around, trying to nurture, converse, cradle deep in my wet eyes everything I encounter.

I'm slipping out of my bones, body folding like a thick blanket to the floor. I gather the folds, the warm skin, the loose fingers, and carry them to the bed. There is a warm light spilling from the lamp in the corner of the room.