MY BASKET FULL OF SWEETS

I went to sleep thinking that those that seek to liberate others are the least free. I woke up in a coffin sleeping next to a dead man that had bad taste in suits and in relatives. A red tie, really who when dead needs a red tie? Accompanied by a white Carnation on his lapel, had he been alive it would have been red; he had not shaved the day before his unfortunate demise, and had been sepulchered in a wooden coffin soon to be nailed; would have preferred marble for my mausoleum, but this poor chap obviously hadn’t given much consideration to the occasion, and his relatives were probably trying to rush the reading of the will, which may have had too few trinkets worth gathering and few if any reconciliations.

After I got over this chap’s poor choice of tailors I came to the realization that my being in his coffin was probably not a sign of good roads traveled by me. I was reaching for confusion, and there was plenty to be had. I decided to try to get out which I did, walking into what must have been a holding area for those that are about to rematerialize as the equivalent of volcanic ash with maybe a little less pump. The place was lined with coffins, I decided to peek at the dead, it is not an opportunity that we all get, it wasn’t like I was here to stay so I opted to trounce upon the opportunity.

I uncovered a small white coffin, pleasantly flowered with a strange combination of Orchids and Daisies, inside a perfumed pearl white interior contrasted with a little girl that was wearing a very bright red dress, against what was her pale skin, red lipstick lips and curly red hair, the contrast was magnificent, she was meant to die just so she could look like that, really an art piece worthy of exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art. I could see it eventuating, an exhibition of the dead and these were not mummified, and this special little girl in her red dress would be the star exhibit, the core of the show, thousands lined out the door to circle the spectacular magnification of contrast blinding the living with its deathly magnificence.

Having enjoyed the wilting masterpiece of the collection, I walked towards the largest coffin, a very large mahogany perhaps, I really don’t know my woods, if mahogany is an obscured cherry, then that is what it was, this coffin was huge, I decided to see it next because it had regal qualities that were to be expected of a high member of our society, I wanted to see the best of the best. I climbed a small staircase, and opened the coffin easily enough by realizing brass latches, then my eyes gazed at this very odd looking fellow, maybe he died of a terrible wound to the head, bruised blood vessels decorated his face like the arterial map of a metropolis, his eyebrows splendidly thick, his hands and fingers bloated, you could barely make out his finger nails, his eyes were also hidden by bulging bulbous cheeks, it was sort of like a case of wrinkle free flesh winning over every other protruding utility. The eyes, small tiny inlets in this sea of flesh, tiny ears virtually swamped out of existence by his huge head, which in relationship to his body seemed half in like that of a cautious turtle, his neck did not even bother to manifest itself, he had no neck, and then from his head unrolled the body, torso shaped like a malformed almond, disillusioned shoulders, huge arms floating in internal water tanks ending in tiny hands with huge stumpy fingers, useless biological mittens that again made finger joints and nails imperceptible; and then his abdomen squashed by his inflamed upper body, almost fully collapsed rose only enough to expose a belly button that still held moisture, perhaps being released from within. A pubic area was non existent, I could not see his testicles, they were hidden by a tiny penis that was not even slightly wrinkled, implying that it might be erect even as it was obviously limp; I would imagine that any kind of sexual act might endure him some pain, it wasn’t meant for any kind of exertion, and I presumed urinating with it might have been an accomplishment of sorts. From there followed his thighs which were massive swells of flesh, none wrinkled, starched even, then the knee caps, again lost to the rest of swelling legs, finally to reach tiny feet which could not under any circumstances have supported this body though undoubtedly they did; these feet must have been tightly wrapped at birth so that they would stay small like that, and the entire body had this essence of baby; a mother had cuddled this thing, a nurse must have tended his needs, a woman loved him, and all three of them were Mom. Mom had undoubtedly outlived her son, she buried him naked just like she remembered him the first time that she fell in love with him; the only time that she fell in love with him or any men; the time that she could never forget, for if she could have forgotten to love him she would have, but the thought never crossed her love.

Walking away from the adult baby thing, I thought how fortunate I was not to have breathed in the same room as him, how fortunate I was not to have adopted such strange physical proportions, how fortunate I was that my flesh had never over-imposed itself upon my body. For a moment, moving in-between all the coffins, lined, waiting on the drive-thru to nonexistence, I, reasoning of catching some fresh air, caught sight of two huge double doors, and commenced walking in their general direction. But my eyes got caught by a golden coffin, I could hardly comprehend why I had not noticed it earlier, the thing was sparkling gold nuggets of lights, using the whiteness of the room as a way to magnify itself and stand out beyond the bounds of mortuary, where I became sure that telescopes were blinded from their visionary missions, and Astronomers must have been busy at work, building lenses that could see through light, so as to locate the brightness that obscured. I fled away from the doors towards this altar coffin, this chalice of death, this moribund specter that was daring any grave to dare diminish its glowing auras of death. I could feel Golden Coffin hiding from envious Sun, what more to fear than that which glitters in its corpus death.

Part of me still wanted to get some fresh air, but I perceived that my heading towards the goldness did not veer from its shortest path. At first I was just walking, then I increased my gait like a gazelle, as I was surrounded by coffins, I began to aggressively coerce them from my path, hurdling over the ones that had not wheels, caring not what damage my brusqueness brought to their unyielding occupants; future anthropologists would conclude that they had been ritually buried alive. There must have been more than thirty coffins in-between, but my steps and my breath grew fast and I stood before the Golden Coffin, glaring bright where I took to glancing at my feet, not from reverence but from a fear of blindness. Not being able to stare at its blinding presence for long, I brought nearer a wooden coffin that laid not far, and this would be my stepping ground so that I could reach the Golden trap door. I rationalized that once the casket would lay unmasked, the glare would subside as reduced by the white silks lining its interior, thus allowing me to recover some sight, and also slaughtering my curiosity of the inhabitant hiding within this luring magnificence.

My efforts may seem less when told, but I tell you that my exhaustion had reached maximum, I was buttered in sweat, my nostrils, neither taking turns to rest, wanted to bleed from over use, my mouth drying up, and my heart debating palpitation rates and skipping beats just to maintain with me. I sat on the wooden coffin, got a few splinters in my extremity from the unfinished wood, but I did not feel them nor the bloodletting they unleashed, and resting only long enough to count to ten and not beyond, I rose again to conquer the attraction that repelled.

Again standing on the wooden coffin, I twisted three oval brass hammer like knobs, obviously all of them had been uniquely hand sculpted, my fingers touching them did not wish to release them, each different in their enamoring tactile feelings, each making my fingertips tingle and shivering me elliptical anguished pleasures, getting lost on them, I had to pry myself away, and then resume again; and discipline enforce that my desired task was not to dwell on the sensual majesty of each adornment, rather my task was to open the casket, which I again began to pursue not without occasionally tracing the sensually drafted finish, while exquisitely twisting those oval-hammer-headed knobs. The sumptuous joy reached my palms, and after being done, I stood there just to capture myself, feeling that I was being released by too much pleasure.

Finally I was able to unleash all and exerting massive force, perhaps injuring my spine, I pushed the casket over the 90 degree angle where gravity grabbed it from me and swung it open with all insensitivity, slam! But the abysmal aura of glittering blinding essence was not diminished as I had hoped, rather it changed color into a pearl blinding silk white, occasionally grayed by emanating patters that I was too blinded to discern. Having no sunglasses, for I never wear what hides the eyes, I was left without a choice but to keep my eyes shut; though light still perforated through my eyelids which made it unrealizable for me to imagine anything, my mind could not draw images against itself; incessant bath of whitewash that allowed not even for the shades of shadows to manifest, I was then more blind than a blind man, unable to conjure images within, I then felt my way into the source of all my blindness.

I immediately touched a skeleton of magnificent proportions, there was no flesh on this cadaver, not an ounce of blood, it might have been made of marble, but my medical background allowed me to discern that what I was laying beside, was bone and cartilage. All of it emptied of living tissue, just the pure skeletal essence, drained to the bone of all existence, and further I concluded that if it had ever had a soul, it had been extracted and blended-liquefied into extinction. And anything in its purest form is magnificent, and more irresistible and splendid, and that is what undoubtedly had masterminded my lure, oh please I cried give me your perfection.

Skeleton was not rejecting my advances, but neither was it welcoming them, and more the penetrating essence was still going through my flesh radiating my inner being and blinding me so that I could not see the object of my attraction. Blinded by commitment I unleashed my sensory organs into action, slowly flinging my tongue to stick it to the skull bone, at first slightly then more, and once I tasted the supreme texture glowing, my tongue salivating wetting flavors of one incessant consistency, the lack of variation was extreme, where I engulfed myself with perdition into the eye sockets, while letting my fingers lasciviously probe skull, reaching under mandible into the middle cranial throne where once must have seated Empress Amygdala, my lips inspired by this unleashed a barrage of kisses along mandible maxilla; irrevocably these only served to excite more within me, translucent armor had not been able to avoid my fingers, I persisted using my lips and nostrils to explore a definition that was marked by crevices and cavities. Ah but when I kissed the clavicle I sensed the history of infinite pleasures suffered, my nostrils drinking away, my fingers clenched it, my mouth sucked from it all its pleasures; only so close to this shoulder laid the magnificent attractor, at the tip of the spiral spring, the hidden pleasures of cervical vertebras, each producing with my gnawing devouring bites different rhythms of strangulatory passions, all while rasping sharpness to my teeth. But from there I could resist no more my impatience and my hands begun to feel every dominion of the breastbone to true and false and floating ribs, oh I adore ribs and now I was at them with no flesh to restrain my wanton; my odor menacingly engaging gushy ponderous wonders of thoracic sensibilities, where lungs and heart once housed, I broke one with my writhing hands and consumed its cartilage delectation. Sight? I did not need sight, I was seeing everything better than my eyes could dream, nibbling spine, kissing sacrum, sucking coccyx, licking tibia, humerus delight; and feasting on phalanges, metatarsal, tarsus, ankle foot and toe, the three holy reasons why Italy is the most aesthetic fetish on this earth. Ah I had found my basket full of sweets, my tongue and person lacerated by its loves, my heart resting on my smiling spine, I felt myself unable to bodily resist the earth, and fell wholly through it.