SARAH DUFFY
Part One: The Black Hole
She cannot hide, try as she might.
In fact, she wants you to see her.
But as soon as you do, she will instantly desire escape, a trap door to quickly exit through into the soft, protective tomb below, never to appear before your eyes again.
At the same time, she cannot deny the utter annihilating thrill of your eyes upon her - the tension, the release; the vast unknowability of your mind and the black hole you represent.
She would like to dive straight into that black hole ... into its unforgivable cloying darkness, past the event horizon, beyond the rules of space time, to the point of no return.
A place where one can hide and contract inwards, while simultaneously expanding outwards into a vast nothingness.
If she were to fall into a black hole, the extreme mass would instantly shred her into pieces, while also stretching those pieces into oblivion - every part of her pulled towards the singularity, a point of infinite mass which tears apart all matter, returning everything to nothing, and her to her nebulous origin, unburdened of shape.
Part Two: The White Hole
Theoretically, there is also such a thing as a white hole, and instead of sucking things in, it spits things out, repelling all forces that get too close.
So, let’s change tack, and imagine that she is being spat out in your direction, hurtling towards you at such great speed that there is an unavoidable collision.
Part Three: The Illusion of Solidity
How many fingers is she holding up?
Don’t be fooled by this illusion of solidity, I will break it down for you.
Inside the glove there is a hand, and inside the skin there is flesh and nerves, and within the flesh and nerves there is bone, and inside the bone there is marrow, and inside the marrow there is fat, and inside the fat there are cells, and inside the cells there are molecules, and molecules are formed of atoms, and inside the atoms there are electrons clouds and empty space.
And yet, there is the hand.
A semblance of shape - held together by complex forces and borrowed matter. Terrestrial and celestial all at once.
Part Four: We Speak In Unison
We speak in unison, her and I, I and her.
For this brief instance, all versions speak at once.
Part Five: Pieces and residues
Pieces of you are continuously detaching and returning, a trail of dead cells left in your wake. Residue of you will remain in this room long after you’re gone.
All the while you are continuously regenerating, becoming anew again and again and again. Copies of copies of copies of cells, each replica a little more flawed, until you are no longer able to put yourself back together.
Part Six: The Abandoned Scaffold
You are an abandoned scaffold lit by moonlight in a vacant lot. Each piece keeps the scaffold in place.
An outline like an empty glove, it must retain some shape when everything else is gone...no part can hold its form without the other parts.
Part Seven: The Empty Barn
A mirror reflects back an empty barn in the middle of the night.
I slide along its edges, body close to the wall, gloved fingers tracing right angles at its corners.
An unending ritual, keeping pace with some ancient rhythm. Locked in the loop, both mental and physical. A clockwork mechanism in soft flesh form. A biological accident that keeps time
Part Eight: 300 pounds of steel
I am crushed inside a wooden box
I am hiding in a hollow staircase
I am sawn in half
I keep myself out of sight
I parade onto the stage
My guts fall out
I smile for the camera
I take a bow while 300 pounds of steel balances just above my head
The rope unfurls
A curtain falls
Distant clapping follows me backstage and then all the way home and then to my grave
My body is rising, and my spirit is lain on the floor amongst the hay
The end was always built into the beginning.
Part Nine: Keep Our Image Safe
Hold our image, reflect it back for us, keep it safe
In return,
Her and I, will do the same for you.
Make us all greater and smaller than we are.
Seep outwards and retreat inwards ad infinitum!
Part Ten: Gorging and regurgitating
I beg for the outside to come in.
I want to be filled up and then emptied out.
I need to gorge on everything so that I can regurgitate it up again.
To be erased and then to be seen once more, this time a little more brightly.