Selected Cronicas

PERILOUS NIGHT

I swear to you — the drawing-room was in darkness — but the music drew me to the centre of the room — something was on the alert there — the entire room darkened within darkness — I found myself in shadows — felt that, notwithstanding the darkness, the room was bright — I took refuge in fear — just as I once took refuge in you — and what did I find? simply that light was filling the room without making things any brighter — and that I was trembling amidst this difficult light — believe me, even though I cannot explain it — I am something perfect and fragile — as if I had never seen a flower — and it frightened me to think of that flower as the soul of someone who had just died — and I watched that bright centre which kept moving — and the flower disturbed me as though there were a dangerous bee hovering round it — a bee paralysed with terror before the ineffable beauty of that quivering flower — and then the flower became paralysed before the bee sweetened by the flower it sucked in darkness — believe me, even if I cannot understand — an inevitable ritual was being enacted — the room was filled by a penetrating smile as the shadows began to disperse — no evidence remained — I can offer no proof — I am my only proof — that is all I can tell you about this illness of mine which has landed me in hospital and which others do not understand — I do not know how anyone can be frightened by a rose — they experimented with violets which are somewhat more delicate — but I was afraid — they smelled like flowers in a graveyard — and the flowers and bees are already calling me — I cannot resist their call — I truly desire to go. Do not mourn my death. I have decided what I must do here in hospital. My love, it will not be suicide. I value life much too dearly and therefore would never contemplate suicide. I am going, but in order to become fleeting light, to feel the taste of honey and, if so ordained, to become a bee.