“That is to say: you cannot have meaning without knowledge of the environment from which it stems…to repeat a word told to you is not to be invested in its force” – Chimene Suleyman, in “My Name is my Name” from THE GOOD IMMIGRANT
To hear a koel calling is to listen to your mother sobbing in the kitchen thinking you were asleep. To laugh at a crow is to break mirrors with feathers. To dance with sparrows, keep to the left of the sun. To die, learn how larks wake. These are not words to tell a child who looks to you for moonlight. These are ruptures in the boardroom. This is the tearing of tongues. Swans will fall out of the wrong skies now. Swallows will spit roses. We will no longer heed the gods. We will lose our wings.
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