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Show SUMMER SLEEP 2, new stanza Then he brings a bale and forks it open with one quick twist. He makes me reach inside to touch the putrid heat where it has festered, like a child gone wrong in the womb. The night of the burning we are caught helpless. It is a summer night like every other, but that tiny heart comes to life in the dark place where it has grown for so long. The barn flares with the secret it cannot keep. The pond pump is useless with its fine mist. We have to work scorched, the sky heaving like a mare near the flame, just to make a clearing so it can burn by itself. All we can do is watch for the last sign, the last smoke going up like some part of us wakened and borne away, some part of us never coming back. |