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The Gate

from Utburd by Michael Bell

/

lyrics

The photographer folds his tripod with a clattering snap and leaves. It is again still, as I am still. My eyes do not see, my ears do not hear, but from above my body I can yet see, vaguely, as through a dewy morning window, and hear, as I would the sounds enclosed behind that window. The crisp white dress clings to the body that had been washed so gently. My clean black hair, brushed and pinned, frames my face, my lips sewn shut, discreetly, and a coin placed over each of my eyes.

At first, there is a soft tug, like being guided by a gentle hand, but it becomes stronger, implacable, until it is a relentless gravity. I can not resist it. I fall.

My body closes around me, cold and inert. My sight fades to blindness. I hang suspended in a thick darkness that holds and pulls, harder and harder until I am dispersed, fragmentary, my thoughts and memories motes of dust spiraling apart, and every part of me alone. Now I am only fear. I wait for the light. I was promised.

There is none. There is only a cruel delight, all around me, and an endless laughter.

credits

from Utburd, released October 29, 2023

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Michael Bell Bellingham, Washington

A Loose-Fish and a Fast-Fish, too.

Some of this is music for video games. The rest is a fairly raw document of my ongoing attempt to find something new among the blinking lights in my studio at home.

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