Place bulbs in a dark place for ten days. Do not disturb.
It seems almost miraculous.
The idea of, tricking nature, tricking herself
into spring.
Standing perfectly still.
A ten day respite in the cool dankness of the basement,
a closed off room where seasonal decorations and
gifts purchased throughout the year are kept.
No tasks to complete, no clamour
of voices.
She imagines herself growing wise, serene,
hyacinths springing forth from the openings in her ears
as she stands in the dark, perfectly still, perfect,
forget-me-nots forming a delicate shelf across her chest.
From Room, volume 32.1