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| Clues and Fragments by Alberto Sughi |
More than anything, I want you to know who I really am, but that is something my parents do not allow (when I was born, my father was so ashamed of me—a monster, he called me—that he erected the endless false and misleading walls which now enclose me to ensure that he would never again have to see me, and as for my mother, it seemed that all I was to her was a constant visible reminder of her past failings, and she did not protest when I was hidden away), and so my entire life has been spent cowering here, alone in the dark, consumed by my hungers, and longing for the time when you find your way to the heart of my labyrinth, for when at last you stand to meet me, face to face, in that all-too-brief moment before you slay me—as your own nature says you must—I will feel such an unbridled rapture, as if Aphrodite herself were embracing me on her perfumed couch, her smooth limbs as pale as alabaster, because for the first time there will be someone who sees exactly who I am, but who does not turn from me and flee, and that will be as close to love as I will ever get.*
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