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Refine them, quickly.
There's too much misery in the spelling of your name, he muttered, collapsing the telescope and pocketing it.
I know, she said. I know.
They exchanged grimaces and watched the rain slow to a few spatters a mild misting of the distant militias. Light faded and new light arose, unresplendant, uninvigorating. So they watched the dawn of night and the reemergence of the birds.
Behind them Kiki toasted with a tall glass their backs, sipped, smiled, closed eyes and swallowed. Fans whirred to life and the stale air stirred, motes lifted, papers ruffled. But the apartment stayed silent. Out of the center of the rising lights new irises grew, alive and furious with purplescent radiance and soft edges of olive. The rain ceased entirely, the lights began to flood the walls the windows their eyes, the very bottom of the thick cut glass the ice and the gold liquid. Light came on like plague, purpler and purpler with knifepoints for beams and they huddled together praying for dark the redspotted carpet grew unseemly and their lusting was exposed. Out of the light seemed to pour noises, scratchings and locusty whispers. Each one heard names, their names. The roaring of galaxies. Finally the drink was empty, and there was nothing between them under the light only the light to weld eyelids shut turn motes into jewels embitter ice cubes into vapor into nothingness the fans whined and the light pressured even them a thickening of light a fog of light the sticky thick waves of unbroken light. And their desire melted like so many windowpanes. All stood man woman secretive Kiki the others the motes of dust stood slowly pulling forward to the window and the great shape resolved slowly becoming lion's head, locust mouth, through into a planet a new star the Eye of Anger the fruit of sweating mystery.
Mouths open we approached like supplicants like baby birds eyes clenched teeth vibrating like just before you vomit and the hum in our heads was finally drowned the voice of the 60 cycles finally silenced all by the gales of light the tides of time. My love my lust dopplered together toward it all things hovered in new orbits all glassy eyed and sweaty our ears burning and sickness leaked from pores joined the gems hovering in the air around us the dust made precious by fire.
Then the smells arrive lavender and meat rosemary and burning cooking oil it becomes hard in that onrush to keep from salivating who wants to anyway who needs anything but the taste the taste of endless light?
Birdsong arose and the night proceeded aimlessly.
There's too much misery in the spelling of your name, he muttered, collapsing the telescope and pocketing it.
I know, she said. I know.
They exchanged grimaces and watched the rain slow to a few spatters a mild misting of the distant militias. Light faded and new light arose, unresplendant, uninvigorating. So they watched the dawn of night and the reemergence of the birds.
Behind them Kiki toasted with a tall glass their backs, sipped, smiled, closed eyes and swallowed. Fans whirred to life and the stale air stirred, motes lifted, papers ruffled. But the apartment stayed silent. Out of the center of the rising lights new irises grew, alive and furious with purplescent radiance and soft edges of olive. The rain ceased entirely, the lights began to flood the walls the windows their eyes, the very bottom of the thick cut glass the ice and the gold liquid. Light came on like plague, purpler and purpler with knifepoints for beams and they huddled together praying for dark the redspotted carpet grew unseemly and their lusting was exposed. Out of the light seemed to pour noises, scratchings and locusty whispers. Each one heard names, their names. The roaring of galaxies. Finally the drink was empty, and there was nothing between them under the light only the light to weld eyelids shut turn motes into jewels embitter ice cubes into vapor into nothingness the fans whined and the light pressured even them a thickening of light a fog of light the sticky thick waves of unbroken light. And their desire melted like so many windowpanes. All stood man woman secretive Kiki the others the motes of dust stood slowly pulling forward to the window and the great shape resolved slowly becoming lion's head, locust mouth, through into a planet a new star the Eye of Anger the fruit of sweating mystery.
Mouths open we approached like supplicants like baby birds eyes clenched teeth vibrating like just before you vomit and the hum in our heads was finally drowned the voice of the 60 cycles finally silenced all by the gales of light the tides of time. My love my lust dopplered together toward it all things hovered in new orbits all glassy eyed and sweaty our ears burning and sickness leaked from pores joined the gems hovering in the air around us the dust made precious by fire.
Then the smells arrive lavender and meat rosemary and burning cooking oil it becomes hard in that onrush to keep from salivating who wants to anyway who needs anything but the taste the taste of endless light?
Birdsong arose and the night proceeded aimlessly.