Winterwarm

Valentine's Day
Somewhere In The Bronx,
1986

The woman across the hall in apartment 22C was arrested last night. In a vodka lubricated rage she nailed her husband's hands to the headboard with a steak knife while he slept.

She claimed, as the police were taking her away, that she loved her husband but lately he just stared at her "With his Alfred Hitchcock-camera-eyes -- You know, first victim, then villain, like in Rear Window."

Nailing him up was the only way to turn the camera off, she said.

The husband was taken out on a stretcher by EMTs, its wheels crushed the card and box of Godiva chocolates he'd given her earlier that day.

He was heard to say, as the doors on the ambulance were closing: "Next time, I hope the crazy bitch can find it in her heart to love me just a little less."

jmale@osf1.gmu.edu
JEFFMALE

Jeff Male is a WW II baby boomer, who is in pursuit of an MFA at George Mason University in Virginia. He was graduated from UMass-Boston. Jeff enjoys exploring the curious nature of relationships as they are foregrounded by the interference of language.

I, Isis

Beyond the Valley of Kings, I find
Your arm wrapped around another's waist
And though your courtesan is but a rind
Of hair and bone, there is a bitter taste
Upon my lips and fantasies within my mind
That make me pause to reconsider my haste.

Are you happier in the land of endless night?
Gentle souls like yours wither in these savage days
When war replaces compromise and the only truth is might.

The doors of death are infinite. Life makes you choose one way
And yours was the path that lead two brothers to fight
To the death. And I, the prize, am the one who pays
The price of tears which sting and blur my sight
As I stumble onward guided by the rays
Of hope, sweet hope--or is it just the light
Of a distant sun in a distant sky that plays
Me for a fool? How can I set right
What death and Seth hath torn asunder?

Sweet Osiris, if you can hear me now
I need a sign to tell me what to do.
With the pieces I have found, I know how
To make you whole, and breathe new life into you.
But I remember how once you made this vow--
"Know this sweet Isis, my love for you is true
And I will love you unto death if somehow
I die." To which I ask "Only unto?"

What happens after your heart begins to beat
And your blood runs red and hot once more?
Will the flame rekindle? Will we feel the heat
Of sweet desire the way we did before?
Osiris, my love is strong but my faith is weak
For I fear to find that with your life restored
You will see me with a stranger's eyes and seek
Another , for death has nullified the vow you swore.

If I could take the place of the corpse who lies
Beside you in the sweet good night of death,
I would. Even now in my mind's eye
I close my eyes and breathe my final breath
And weave for us a single shroud of sighs,
A silken bower to carry us into the West
To the land of carrion and swarming flies---
Yes, it seems to me that way is best.

But brother, if I die along with you
Does that mean our love will die too?

I gather an arm, two legs, an eye and an ear,
And kneel down to spread them gently upon the ground.
Carefully I place this piece there and that piece here,
Delighting in the treasures I have found.
The tongue that whispered words both sweet and dear
The ear that took such pleasure in the sound
Of my voice. The eye that shed a single tear
Of joy when love came for us and found
Us willing to bind ourselves to each other without fear.

It is done, Osiris. Now feel my breath
Upon your lips. I share with you my life
And take from you an equal measure of death
So that when you rise from the dead I'll be your wife
In darkness as well as light. Forget about Seth.
In killing you he sealed his fate. A knife
Will find him, a blade forged from his own hate
And tempered by the love we share. But for tonight
Forget him and think about how even fate
Could not separate those whose love is right
And written on the stars. For us it is never too late.

McCamy Taylor
taylorjh@nationwide.net
MCCAMYTAYLOR

McCamy Taylor writes science fiction and fantasy and his stories have appeared in "Aphelion" and "The Little Read Writer's Hood." His long fiction is posted at http://www.dfw.net/~taylorjh/index.html. Favorite writer of all time: William Blake.