Читать книгу Pictograph - Melissa Kwasny - Страница 11

PICTOGRAPH: AVALANCHE MOUTH

We didn’t know what we were seeing, and so, saw less. Red lightly painted over the surface. They showed themselves like the animals do, only in certain light. It was an empty place we visited, and then they filled it. The coaxing of figures, as if out of a dream, from the corners of dream into the open: handprints, finger-lines, a turtle. Meander outside the area of recent spalls. Dark and cold this time of year, in the canyon, and we were sullen, increasing the severity of where we are. A crazy mean lost culture, blue going in the wrong direction. Always interfering with something sacred still going on. Deer-sex in the interior: one must move by touch. The walk-through pictograph in the making. Ever since we were born, we could imagine these still and silent fields. Deer positioned on top of hay mounds in the safe zones.