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burnunitWe no longer hunched amid the pelting starlight but drifted listless toward the far shore of the great spanse of grass, the distant diesel mystery of highways and interchanges. And we longed for it, the abrupt gushers of speeding freight, the blasting arteries of nationhood. Kiki stood and awaited us there, languid and too-easy with the highway behind: cars sped by like bursts of static, thrust penises, a fitting fell backdrop for the apparation whose arms stretched out to us.
O they longed for this, this unerring straightness brash and and full of trucks. Fire tripped by, blood caromed past, every inch of steel and plastic a sweet biotic release of hope hope hope that dopplered away to nothing.
"Well, take me quickly now or lose this sweet-scented instant we captured at last."
By her ease and posture I knew the moment would last, though, knew that no haste so rudely published was true.
"I own that guise," I demurred. "You mustn't believe that I'm out of this race yet."
Under the stern and watchful pressure of my mind's eye the two met, swept into a brief turn, a dance step and clasped hands., turned backs to us and gazed across the roads We gathered behind them, eyes unable to avoid the buttocks, the curls of hair at head, across the back, at the place where Icarus' wings joined his flesh. And with one leap they fled the roadside, their grace abandoned us .
"Pure spite," she swore. "No plan could more cunningly contrive this departure."
We watched them consume the air, the space above the road and drift beyond, diminished into the middle distance.
O they longed for this, this unerring straightness brash and and full of trucks. Fire tripped by, blood caromed past, every inch of steel and plastic a sweet biotic release of hope hope hope that dopplered away to nothing.
"Well, take me quickly now or lose this sweet-scented instant we captured at last."
By her ease and posture I knew the moment would last, though, knew that no haste so rudely published was true.
"I own that guise," I demurred. "You mustn't believe that I'm out of this race yet."
Under the stern and watchful pressure of my mind's eye the two met, swept into a brief turn, a dance step and clasped hands., turned backs to us and gazed across the roads We gathered behind them, eyes unable to avoid the buttocks, the curls of hair at head, across the back, at the place where Icarus' wings joined his flesh. And with one leap they fled the roadside, their grace abandoned us .
"Pure spite," she swore. "No plan could more cunningly contrive this departure."
We watched them consume the air, the space above the road and drift beyond, diminished into the middle distance.