Academic journal article Chicago Review

Labyrinth

Academic journal article Chicago Review

Labyrinth

Article excerpt

Each word's a stone, a paving stone, a flat rock, and like the little girl who trod on a loaf to save herself in the swamp but still sank down until she was grasped by the Marsh King, I step on the word blue, a color, and feel myself descending slowly to the labyrinth below, the mind-swamp. Blue wobbles under my feet, the color of my school uniform, going deeper now, blue the color of the outer garment the Virgin Mary wore over her white smock on the altar. I'm already waist deep in blue, the waves slosh up around my breasts, small waves, this is the blue chlorine of the swimming pool, the boys grabbing my ankles as I kick away from the side, my blue strap sliding down, he's seen my nipple, shriveled and blue. Now I'm up to my neck, the weight of my step still pushing blue deeper into the murk, but as the sludge covers my eyes I find not darkness but a blue phosphorescence, I can see through this medium, everything shining and strange, distorted. …

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