I stand here alone, bereft of feeling, and I see the swan lights rising. I’ve been in seclusion for so long; I’ve forgotten what it is to have company. The solace of womanhood is dragging heavily upon my existence and there is no one to whom I can turn. Someday soon, I shall be wed, but until that day comes, I have only myself to experience.
The bright white lights of virginity shine upon my face, my fingers drooping with the heavy morning dew. My movements are languid, drifting with dignity in my own tranquillity. I am consigned to this imitation of a life, and there is nothing I can do to alter that.
Darling, stop confusing me with your wishful thinking and hopeful embraces.
Don't you understand? I have to go through this alone. I am not a real person anymore. I never have been. I know I’m waiting for something to give myself meaning. I am needed for a higher purpose. I live in this world made of glass, everything in suspension. The birds are stationary amongst the clouds. No movement. No taste. No touch. Blue tit in a gilded cage. I belong here where no one cares and no one loves. Milk floods my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my ears. I am sinking in the sea of my own creation. No light, no air to live in. A place called hate; the city of fear. There are no other voices, no other breaths. Isolation.
And now I see the swan lights rising, high and fast above the horizon.