Coyote's magic talk bubbles up from my heart. And it is so hard to parse. In one sense I feel FEEL it, and I can understand it viscerally. In another sense it is magical gibberish and I can't wind it into reality. Not that any of this can be easily braided into reality. Reality.
I do know I need to be able to hear Coyote's words. And though his fangs and cranium cradle my heart and feel good there, I think I need a more direct connection to his whispersound windwords. I need to feel Coyote in my mind in addition to my heart if I am to make any sense of this entire ordeal.
And so I pull him off of my neck. I rearrange his ribbon. And I affix him, helmet-like, to my own skull. This is surely the way to connect. Coyote, this way I'll bring you everywhere with me and I'll listen.
Now tell me something I need to know.
Coyote, I know I forgot something. That was the whole purpose of getting lost. So I could lose a memory.
"...ssssseparate m-m-emory and ssss....self...and ch-ch-ch...sss...shhh...recoyote..."
Yes, I separated my memory from the SELF. But what is a RECOYOTE? You are a Coyote.
A RECOYOTE is a memory container...? Coyote... are you part of the memory-losing process? You were meant to comfort me on the eve of truly losing my memory, and then you take off with it?
But why did you die?
"...sssssssalways that way...rrrrrrecoyote and memory...hhhhhh....annihilate..."
The memory destroys the corporeal coyote, and vice versa. And leaves this skull that speaks to me? But why?
"...ssss...tt-t-t...rhhhhemind you...offffff the losssssst m-m-emory..."
But that seems so unfair.