Girls are coming out of the woods,
lifting their broken legs high, leaking secrets from unfastened thighs, all the lies whispered by strangers and swimming coaches,
and uncles, especially uncles, who said spreading would be light
and easy, who put bullets in their chests and fed their pretty faces to fire, who sucked the mud clean off their ribs, and decorated their coffins with briar.
Girls are coming out of the woods,
clearing the ground to scatter their stories. Even those girls found naked in ditches and wells, those forgotten in neglected attics,
and buried in river beds like sediments from a different century. They’ve crawled their way out from behind curtains of childhood,
the silver-pink weight of their bodies pushing against water,
against the sad, feathered tarnish of remembrance.
They're coming.
They're coming.
The Lie said to the Truth, "Let's take a bath together, the water is very nice”.
The Truth, still suspicious, tested the water and found out it really was nice. So they got naked and bathed.
But suddenly, the Lie leapt out of the water and fled, wearing the clothes of the Truth.
The Truth, furious, raced out of the pond to get her clothes back.
But the World, upon seeing the naked Truth, looked away, with anger and contempt.
Poor Truth returned to the pond and disappeared forever, hiding her shame.
Since then, the Lie runs around the world, dressed as the Truth, and society is very happy-because the world has no desire to know the naked Truth. ~Unknown
Painting: “Enchanted Pool” by John Twatchman 1800s