Opera Rotas

It's a story that travels in circles. I remember you, I struggle to be free of you, I see you coming to redeem me again. I lack the control to decide which it will be in any given space. When I am aglow with pure love I am a beautiful care free maiden. When I resist, I become monstrous, clawed and toothed, with an indiscriminate bite. As I return to the life electric I take the shape of a mad old woman cackling and bending in the street,... babbling incoherent truth. All the heavens and all the hells that I have visited in my various shapes, I have visited accidentally. Unable to man my ship, I arrive wherever the change wind blows. I kill you in this play, love you in that, give birth to you in another, on and on. When I do remember, that too is an accident. As an accident it is no more beautiful than when I forget. What is beautiful is the moment outside of the fold,... that place where I am another you, where puppet and master and stage are the holy trinity and the circle is enlivened by purpose.