Murakush c.1102
T he taste is my mouth is beyond bitterness. I feel saliva drip down the side of my mouth, see it fall to the floor, a foaming wet whiteness.
There is a mirror in my room. I crawl towards it now, my silk robes brushing the floor, turning to rags beneath my knees. I cannot stand, my legs are too weak and my breathing too shallow.
My eyes are growing dim. Something cold touches me and I start back, then realise my face has touched the mirror, yet still I cannot see myself. I sit back on my heels, close my eyes and struggle for breath.
I reach out and place my palms on the cold hard mirror, bring my face close to its shining surface. I open my eyes wide and stare into its depths, seeking my reflection.
Daughter, bride, concubine, queen, widow, wife, seductress, rival, murderess, spy, mother. Crone.
I cannot see my face.