DEC 2013 Temptation of the Fresh Voluptuous

TEMPTATION OF THE FRESH
VOLUPTUOUS
TEMPTATION OF THE FRESH
VOLUPTUOUS
BY RUTH MARGRAFF
ADAPTED FROM NIGHT VISION and Other Operas written with Fred Ho as a 2000 YEAR-OLD VAMPIRE CRASHES
INTO A SHEPHERD BOY’S HEART. PERFORMED FOR SARAH & JOSEPH BELKNAP'S "ALL AT ONE POINT" EXHIBITION AT
MUSEUM OF CONTEMPORARY ART NOVEMBER 26, 2013, INSPIRING LATEX TRANSIENT FRESCOS FOR
SULLIVAN GALLERIES DECEMBER 13, 2013 – FEBRUARY 16, 2014 (CHICAGO)
I TOOK A LONG DARK ROAD OF STARS FLUNG INTO EMBERS,
BLIND AND VELVET TEARING THROUGH THAT
DAILY–RESURRECTION–HOLIEST–OF–VEILS
NO NAME. NO ART. NO TRACE BUT SHADOWS.
YOU WERE CALLING TO ME FROM A HEART SPRUNG TO YOUR THROAT.
RAGE UNCIRCUMCISED, IN JADED DRAGONS THAT WOULD MELT
MY BED–ROCKED SCARLET TEARS LIKE ICE AGAINST YOUR FIST
CLAIMING TO PRESERVE US, AS THE SACRIFICE GOES LIMP
(DRAGGING ME DOWN LIKE AN ARROW)
WHEN OH, THE HILT—THE HILT AGAIN PLEASE—
THERE WHERE IT WOULD LOCK
IT UNLOCKED
THRASHING US AWAY.
AND I WAS FLUNG DOWN, FACE DOWN,
SPLIT THE DOME OF HEAVEN
I WAS CURVING AS THE NIGHT GREW UNCUT FOR THE SHADE ABOVE US
PRESS ME CLOSELY INTO ANY CENTURY TO DISCOVER MY RISIDUAL
VOLUPTUOUS MISTAKE STILL SWELLING IN ME SOMEWHERE,
TEMPTING YOU TO FEAST AND FEAST, AND VACCINATE YOURSELF
AGAINST MY SIN, THAT BITTEN CHEEK OF KNOWLEDGE
(YOU’LL REMEMBER THIS MORE ROUNDLY THAN IT WAS).
SO YOU CAN DRIVE THE WOLVES BACK BY THE FANG,
YOU CAN FEEL MY (SO NIGH) DYING, WITH YOUR SLIT VOICE CRYING TO
ME, CRYING WILD. GIVING WITH ABANDON UP THE GHOST.
THE WALLS OF YOUR HEART THICKEN WITH MY TIMING
(SLOWLY TO ENSURE THE EXCITATION)
WHEN YOU OPEN UP YOUR HEART
MADE LIKE SLAUGHTER IN THE DARK I SEEM TO YOU?
MY LAMB SHORN TO THE BREAST? STRIPPED TO THE MURMUR?
THUS YOU LUST THE SAVAGE BY MISTAKE.
BREAK IT NOW. PLEASE… OH DEAR.... LITTLE BOY BLUE.
I DON’T THINK YOU CAN HEAR ME ANY MORE. TORN BY ACCIDENT.
PREMATURELY JUST TO KEEP MY OWN GRIEF FRESH. YOU THINK IT IS A
HOLY NIGHT? BECAUSE IT IS A SILENT NIGHT?
WHEN I APPEAR TO SHEPHERDS THIS OBLIVIOUS?
THERE ARE STRUGGLEMARKS ON THE WALLS WHERE WE DRAGGED
THINGS HEAVY, THERE WAS NO STRONG ARM TO HAUL THESE THINGS.
WE HAD NO SUPPORT ANYWHERE.
YOU HAD A BLUNTED FORCE. HAMMERING MY WILL.
BUT YOUR HAND COULD BE SO GENTLE, RESTING ON THE PIANO OR
BESIDE YOUR LUCIOUS FIRSTFRUITS.
THE FRUIT YOU GAVE ME IS TRANSLUCENT AND IMMORTAL,
THE JUICE RAN DOWN MY HANDS, ALL OVER THE G TRAIN. I WAS BESIDE
MYSELF WITH YOU. I COULDN’T STOP THE CRASHING OF MY HEART OR
YOURS, THE SWORDS, THE RED-SHEATHED MODERN REVOLUTIONARY
PEKING OPERAS… I COULD FEEL YOUR STRENGTH ACROSS THE FIELDS. I
FORGED MY RHYTHMS TO YOUR OWN. YOUR INFERNO IS DISTILLED
UPON MY SOUL. WE LIVE THE HOUR OF THE WOLF.
I WAS TWELVE FOR A THOUSAND YEARS AND I WAS SICK OF IT. WHAT
DID YOU MEAN BY INCREASE, NOW I’LL NEVER KNOW, AND NOW THE
STILLNESS. I WILL HATE THE STILLNESS. DEAFENING. WE CAME SO
YOUNG UPON THIS PLACE WHEN WE WERE NOT FULL-GROWN YET
EITHER. YOU FACED ME TO THE FUTURE, YONDER GREENER OF THE
VIEW. AND I FOLLOWED YOU, I FOLLOWED AND YOU LED ME BY THE
STAFF TO WHERE I SHALL NOT WANT. YOU TURNED MY HEAD TO
FOLLOW YOU, YOU LED ME BY THE ROD AND STAFF AND THE SCRUFF OF
MY NECK TO LAY LOW IN THE MEADOW, KNOWING THAT THE LAMBS
WOULD SOMEDAY FROLIC TO THIS PASTURE FOR A BIT OF TENDER
GRASS...WHAT WAS IT THAT MADE ME STARE ALL NIGHT AT THE ENNIGHTENMENT? WHAT MADE ME WANT TO LAY MY HEAD LIKE THAT
AND LISTEN? WHENEVER YOU CAME AROUND...
SHUT YOUR EYES, YOU SAID, IT’S VERY GREEN, BUT IN THE PITCH DARK
EVERYTHING IS BLACK AND WHITE LIKE AN OLD FILM, YOU ONLY KNOW
IT’S GREEN BECAUSE YOU RECOGNIZE THE SHAPES. OR MAYBE VELVET
AND THEY SAY IT FEELS LIKE VELVET TOO. WE ALWAYS WONDER WHAT
IT FEELS LIKE, VELVET…
CAN WE HESITATE A LITTLE ON THE WAY…
CAN I TIP YOU BACK INTO THE NIGHT UNTIL YOU FEEL A COARSENESS
HOLDING YOU UP
(LIKE AN ARROW)