:: The S.I.C.L.E. Cell ::

:: Saturday, October 02, 2004 ::

I dream that a 13-week-old baby (15 weeks of pregnancy), probably mine, is placed inside a clear jar full of golden viscid honey. This of course magnifies the intricate body parts of the little one whose heart is seen beating through a transparent chest. The child is too vulnerable to struggle and simply submits every innocence to death's approach. I watch in horror as the chest no longer heaves and the heart no longer beats. The life is spent, the agonized expression forever sealed in sweet regurgitation.

I wake up, and my husband reminds me that suicide can be thought of as a kind of abortion.

:: ashli 4:53 PM # ::
...