‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Perhaps we should sing our death songs now, in case we become too weak to do so later.’ ‘Not yet,’ she whispered against m... chest. ‘Finish the story of Se-lu and Ka-na-ti first. Then we will sing. And our souls will break free together.’ I adjusted the pile of blankets above us and began. ‘So when the boys saw how Se-lu got corn and beans from the corn-crib, they became frightened because they thought she was a witch. ‘We have to kill her in case she decides to eat us,’ Wild Boy. Where is my Henry? He believed in my life. His hands were my triumph. He loved where I felt empty and never asked in return. He laughed. He watched my eyes when he laughed. He made me shake with something I had not known ever. I wasn’t afraid when I slept. My child churns inside, now awake, part of the account of the dream and it pushes backward, banging against the inside of my mouths. I am not empty. My cunt is filled, and the pulse inside, shifts, and I watch the skull emerge, more horrible. More

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