C4 antho - Chamber Four

Semolinian Equinox ~89~
in five days Tanya spent in hospital the perplexed nurses
have been accepting flowers and cards from sundry men. The
contents of the cards stuck in the bouquets does not vary in a
single word. Each of them says, “Tanya―Thank you for the
son!”
I am at the United Hospitals, too, nothing serious, just
family planning. Andrey says that they will serve me a
chicken wing when I wake up. He has paid for that.
I am sprawled like a starfish and there is a needle in my
arm bend. One doctor is behind my head and one is between
my knees.
“Why is she still twitching? That dose should have put
her under by now!”
“Ah, what the hell. Just get on with it.”
My limbs are washed by the green tide, my mind crumbles
like stardust and flows down into my stomach. Zazzy,
zaftig, zing, zigzag. The alphabet is over now. My loins are
full of the final spice. “Well-done,” says Ursa Major. “You
have deserved your prize.”
I hear his topaz breath, I feel the swing of his cloak. He
wraps me into its folds and off we start, away from Donetsk,
away from everything united, up into the vernal equinox. He
is holding me tight, my Angle, my Saxon, my Jute.