On the church bell towers… / ˙˙˙ƃuᴉddᴉɹ sɹǝʍoɥs uǝploƃ ǝɥʇ ɹǝʌO (5.4k words)
CW: Discussion of sex, mild depiction of gore
Over the golden showers ripping up at us from the sea, we walk.
Will the seasons ripen our hearts? Yes, and they sweeten your touch.
We will walk hand-in-hand, apparently eternally.
Let us not tangle in the affairs of our parents' hate-love.
And while they tail us, worlds away and weary — on our
Own, we'll play judge and jury.
Where do I even start? Can I describe the twist in a dawning arc?
The lowly rapids beneath our footfalls, all carrying bustles from another place so far
To this stage near and dear to ours, our spotlights to rival the moon and her daughters.
10 Do the heavens cast their envy to snuff out a pair of binary stars?
The evening swelled, the curtain fell, the drop ruptured, a paper chatterbox
And then a stranger song of cicadas, and the labyrinth stretching before us.ⓘLevel 0 - "Tutorial Level""What? What… is this place?"-
Oh my dear love, where did you go?
I look about, and even the dust falls so slow
Between a blink and the next? Did you not follow?
Through somewhere outside me, I see my breaths come shallow.
There, a bluebird halved! — I'm swallowing a blooming, eviscerated sorrow
Bubbling hot and heavy in my throat.
My grip holds steady, but my hand lies empty, the terror snapped too tight
20 My quaky resolve I will steel, and at the crossroads, I pick right.
The dice answers, the faded colors bloom — diamond wallpaper and a humble room.ⓘThe Manila Room"I think I'll stay here a while… maybe this is the center of this place? An exit? God, I hope it's an exit."-
And a sight which gives me no pause before their voice — your harp — cuts through
My winded disbelief, and your eyes lighting up my grin beaming ear to ear
Until I caught sight of the TEAR:, "— world's going on here?"
Deeper down the baleful rabbit hole we climb
A proverbial fall taken two steps at a time
Before you steadied, looping around my wrist, "Ready, there's — "
Thousands of pinpricks in the silence, biding.
If cruel smiles without lips beckon, if hands without arms could itch to rip yours from mine
30 I will fight it with defiant vigor: from you, I would never be delivered.
Through miles of halls we weave, a spare Ariane's thread still flush and alive to cleaveⓘLevel 1 - "Habitable Zone""What the hell do you think this place is, love? I've… tried pagers, they don't work. I tried to kick down the walls, and there's only black. I… I just don't know. I don't know."-
One road of hope, one scarce belief, amidst the crushed embers and stillborn dreams.
Then: The light slams shut, and across the shadow's gulf we achingly sneak;
A last trial between death and survival.
We enter the corridors after far too long, shadows receding & fata morganas going
The only sure solace now your careful soothing.
Up ahead of us, the lights in the garage return
Like a lighthouse on our concrete shore!
Stirring our long shadows against the wall into flight
40 Chasing the tides, a burst of embracing light.
Our reel, I crack it; our stage, I set it
Imperfect, but worth it, for our love song echoes still.
And there are crates all scattered about haphazardly,
Like the onset of a flood here to sweep the ruins.
We look about in them, find a couple of neat tools —
Cans of salmon, flip-out blades, comfy clothes and flasks oily.
As our pack is packed to the brim, we decide to leave the crates, three-quarters empty,
And head out to the complex, hoping for an exit.
We look around, at a loss, until the doors drew our attention where
50 A ghostly light glows, shining on a set of stairs
Unmoving in waiting, not overstepping its spot in the white tape.
On a pillar, the glowing green of an exit sign trace
The equally white arrow pointing out, beckoning;
With a word and a reassuring nod, we travel past the dented gates.
Where the moon doesn't shine her luster, and the daylight stales sans a sun for warmthⓘLevel 128 - "The Great Outdoors""My God, it's as if we're on a low-budget horror flick set. This is just —"-
A cold comfort swathes our sore shoulders as we shift through the catgrass.
The wind caressing through folds of fabric and your blades of hair
Carries the stench of death and something harder to catch.
The heavy air meets the swing of crossings where all tumbles like confetti
60 Depositing us here without a scratch.
Then: As if the 4th of April was doused in gasoline
Squinting through murky deeps above a sea of green
A mountain stirs, a titanic bellow, rising like a sonic boom
An EAS cutting through the fog;
Louder than storm's siren or the harbinger of a hurricane's tone
The arising of a giant, of that which only myths have known.
I can hardly think as we duck behind a pillar, the cool rock now warm in its protection.
You can hardly keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all: danger at every step,
That we have to avoid, and somehow always do.
70 The thing turns out docile, just driving locusts out of the woodwork,
Seeping gas from the surroundings.
Before us, couples of fair daisies; I grab two, hoping I live to give them to you.
We dash between the checkpoints, hardly moving, barely alive,
As the titan moves above us, checking for prey from the sky.
Were we anybody else, I wonder if we would've died —
But only fortune lies with us, because it let us pass it by.
All the way to your discovery, all the way to the room marked 55.ⓘLevel 55 - "Pit Stop""Oh! Wow, I genuinely feel like I *have* been here before… do you know Franks'? The bar-be-que place? No? Ah. I guess I'm just tripping myself out."-
Then: Beyond the cracked drywall, leaning against two-sided seats
80 Running a napkin against tablecloths
Diplomas and neon signs plastered over the windows
Askew metal shutters to something a little like the old world
Even if the dusky encrimsoned panes slip through our fingers
Here, for once, let this tender night be ours.
A plump loaf of bread, baked to golden crisp and
Baskets of sugary chocolate chip
Whipped cream croissants, topped with blackberry
Dried apples, cut fruits, and pickled things
Sprinkles of garnish on apricot
And olive trays carrying chicken wings.
Half-eaten, disturbed citrus flavor, the imprints of icing left on wrapping paper
Still I'm looking for something. I come across familiar delicacies:
(Was this not what I gave you on that fateful day?)
Skewered tanghulu topped with sesame seeds
Plates of pumpkin stuffed with melted cheese
Not a single drop of nectar comes away with me.
The walls betray their age, strained wood and creaky leather
The fan frozen midway above tri-colored plaster;
Appetite returns, and a moment of entertainment spared for the hope that we had waken
100 A break in a nightmare before it is dashed across the breakers.
We get our respective breads, find a good pair of seats,
And will our nerves to calm after the beast's trial and prevail.
We talk of snapshots, scattered confections rich with remembrance
The crumbs on our fingers tart and sour, stopping conversation mid-sentence.
"Finish your food before it gets cold," you say to me, all teasing,
As I remark upon a place we used to go.
"Do you remember the day we met?" I bring up,
There, on the steps, eyes closed, I see us:
One Saturday night, Vallejo HS, I found you on the steps
110 Head in your arms, fresh cotton crisply pressed.
"D'you reckon they did all that just to set me up?" You asked between bitter laughs
"Maybe, maybe not — I don't run with those girls, never liked their vibrations —
Forget the dance, because if you've got an odd hour or two…
I know a place that's pretty classy, and something better we could do."
You laugh, but you stay heavy — "What is it, my love?"
"Oh!" You snap up, shit-eating smirk across your face:
"I was just thinking of something I'd forgotten along the way."
You pull out a card from your wallet, and rise from the high-back,
And I can hardly fathom what you confess:
120 It is the greatest, best shock I've ever felt.
Then:1 Past the break,
Pushing through infested, pipe and vent cages, we battle through 3
Each victory a honeyed fruit before all is torn heedlessly.
Horrors the twisting turns have no chance to hide, our instincts on-point — or so I thought.
The journey would've been fruitful, though a relentless Odyssey
Were it not for the damned twist of fate:
Before our turn, the flesh swelled to swallow us in its headlights
Before I froze, a deer on the edge of death
Decidedly feral, the clump sprints towards us
130 A dripping maw open, with spines of rotten teeth.
It stares eyeless, malignant, into my face
At your pull, I shake free, running endlessly.
Your blade slips out between the steps, a flash
Of steel hitting cement, and I take it up, a savior torch — then, oh God!
You vanish under the mass of arms, a drowning sailor,
and I am swallowed by horror. With resolve I turn to stand
and swiftly bring the knife down in one fell swoop, burying it in its eyes.
My other hand drags your weapon's screws, screwing the collapsed monster's guts.
The jutting limbs like porcelain shatters, a breaking jigsaw art
140 Arrowhead colliding, time slowing to the beat of my heart
Viscera blooms, hands scatter out, the ever terrible flower
Raging fear blurring my vision, tears blocking my calls
Septic seeping into skin, phantom pain enough to remember
The exit lies close — I need to clear my head of it all.
Choking back a gasp to look away from where you were hit
I lift you as if carrying my own soul: heavy in my arms, my hope
Lightening the load. I cradle you , a knocked and torn dog
160 I bring you over a glitchy threshold, fearful, treading through;
I look down at your cheeks, pale, your expression naught
150 And I catch myself wanting to call out for you.
The wall leads from rust to sand dust.
A new and foreign plain, dotted with hotels, augmenting my hopes.ⓘLevel 48 - "The Sunset Beach""Oh my God… it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Please, you have to hang in there — I'll tie your leg up once I'm not holding it, and… Please. Just wake up, please, I need you to wake up so fucking badly."-
Carefully, I set you down on the bench of oak
A roadside refuge desperately needed, and I sit down next to you.
I tear off my jacket, the ugly winter sweater to cover
The three gashing wounds teeth scratched into your thigh.
From within an off-pocket of my pack I produce
A receipt still loved —
Faint, printed numbers proclaiming "16/04/1989!"
160 With slightly trembling fingers I smooth out the creases
Folding lines in my muscle memory, petals emerging — serendipity
And I think of placing it in your hair, before putting it away.
I could not stop my face gravitating towards yours; I could not
Hold back the warmth surrounding us, from flesh or its bloody smear
Running unstaunched from the heart or the wound. Idly, my fingers find your skin,
Tracing lines against your shoulder, your cheekbone, your ear
Eyes closed, a hand running through your hair
Like caressing a sun-kissed blanket, an anchor through the fear.
When you stir, all tiredness escapes my body,
170 I find a pillbottle from the pack as you wince,
Pushing an aspirin, in between your parted lips.
And we chuckle, remembering how you used to hate that gesture.
A hand over my hammering heart, I choke out a whispered sigh
"God, █████2, I love you. I'm so glad we're still kicking."
Now I know the truth: I'm the luckiest fool alive!
I give you a long kiss, with the sheer absurdity of it all
Rushing back into my mind: How could these places even exist?
How could we fall here, and how strong can we fight?
Invincibility ripped away, I etch your eyes into my mind —
180 Better to lie in rest than to bear having you ripped again.
We ride in a foraged, old, stickshift sedan, the windows with blinds beckoning home,
Fiddling a radio that deigns to play our favorite '70s/80s renditions
The golden road below us, nearly a path to Oz
The moonlight ghostly, washed through glass, cool like a spotlight, dwarfed on occasion
By the shadows of palm trees, passing spines of blue candle and red flower cactuses,
The jolt of a spare bump sending the entire seat rocking.
I've never been a meticulous driver, but I steer careful now
A firmer hold on the pedal stalled by your expression, shifting:
Did you move, or was that but a shadow passing over you?
190 I'd like to pray for the ghost of a smile to sting me, deep panting periodic from pain.
Baptized in the boiler-crucible, I feel content just seeing your lips:
Their dialogues for my soul, parted contents for my heart.
Eventually, we hit a town, juicers and farmers aimlessly about
Until they see us, brief panic in their form,
Disarmed upon seeing we're not the overbearing MEG.
I speak to them as you go to rest in a little abode,
And an offhand mention strikes me, so I beg:
"This city you just mentioned, what do you mean?"ⓘLevel 11 - "The City That Never Sleeps""I feel like it'd be the perfect place. Safe, still adventurous. Quiet, still loud."-
"It's a hard-to-reach land, four minutes off past the horizon deep,
200 Where none of us so much as wish to go. It is steeped
In work and strife, rife with the boisterous — like you two!
This world must bless an urban baptism: none have tried."
Lover, dance with me: let us step
In rhythmic circles, hands on each other, treading
Into warmer waters. Come, and lend our bodies to the waves,
Feel the currents, and let the water take us away.
Though our hands still tremble and our hearts still pound
The ocean's gentle kiss will wash away our broken wounds
210 The vultures gaze encircling us from above a moth-eaten sky
Their glance giving us to depths we cannot reach;
The dead gaze of the blackbird nailing us down
As if our love was just another nail to breach
But still, we carry forward, deeper, deeper;
After all, fortune always favors the bolder
Thunder-like applause was the sound of breaking water
Our two actors take a gasp of air: please rise for the overture.
Finding land under me, I sit up to reach
A hand to your chest, feeling the sharp waves
220 Until you're exhaling slowly like all the air is fleeing
Exhaling, inhaling, still breathing, shaking from lack, buzzing from gain:
A pleasure to live, such a wondrous tragedy.
How strange it is, that we've ever existed at all.
Soaring, sailing, we now will dare to dream
Despite the four-walled trapping of concrete.
Our tales entwined, your hand in mine,
The sky is wide open for us to see —
228 Into the infinite world we rise, binary stars stable and bright!
On the church bell towers, trysts and tales once came together —
Oh! Brilliantly will my bond with them shine!
On the luminant broad plains, when the long-beaked birds sing:
A choir for our running, whittled to a lone, soft cellist for our fucking.
The patron (explorer) saints will call, and we will not reply -- on ourⓘThe MEGWhen once we've grown older together, and we've tired of seeing the distant lands, and we've - and this is the greatest heresy - tired of *each other,* then perhaps. Perhaps.-
Own, we'll see the corners of this infinity world.
INT:I admit, it was a distressing time, our entrance to this world.
We were walking above the blackened midnight waters together,
Soft words exchanged, firmly our hands entwined; the air passed through our
10 Lungs, light our eyes, — then, at once! — the two of them stabbed us to make us shine.
The blinding tunnel was ∞/0, deep blue strobing in our nerves, hurting us so fucking
Much that our song was mere cries. And then: the damp floor, the bleak walls.ⓘLevel 0 - "Tutorial Level"Amidst the eternally constructing plains, broken fragments of a city-capitalist's dream which should have long ago passed, I awoke. And thank God I did, for I would never want to leave you alone in this hellscape.- Sing(!):
"Where hast thou gone, my love? Once, I could sing
With you of the joys of touch and flesh and tales — now, a world
That I skip across, bland waters, horrid buzzing, and I miss you so fucking
Much, that I shake: the sentiment we might never again be together
Too much. How does one bear the loss of our one body, the shine
that I had when I gazed into your eyes — the loss of Our!!?"
Urgency writ large, until I saw a door to a different place.ⓘThe Manila RoomI could hardly believe my eyes as I came into the room, hoping beyond conscious hope that you had found it, wondering if it would be prudent to stay there until I died… for you. How could one expect to see you already there!- Oh! Is it true that our
20 Love is undying? It can't be, but it must. Seeing you was enough to make me sing
Your song in jubilee: "Somewhere over the rainbow… bluebirds shine —"
And you broke our embrace to laugh and say, "What in the world-"
And a cheek's kiss and quick reply — "Sorry if I butchered it, I'm just glad we're together."
Then: an exasperated/joyful laugh, shuffling documents, quiet words: "What in the fucking-
CUT: Walls are broken; hand-in-hand; across 1ⓘLevel 1 - "Habitable Zone"Through patches of danger we flitted across / Pipes and rods our only posts / We spoke then: "How can we get home?" / "I don't know love… honestly, I worry more for my m'um."- we go, light from the night's lunatic fucking,
Breath bated and hearts laden with heavy concern; your future — our
Future was clouded, despite our anchoring together.
Vicissitudes came, from the distant and dark, who'd sing
Of foretold fatal fates and blood spill't in this endless concrete world.
30 Holding luck, a steel pipe, and my lover, we dispatched and travelled 'till we saw a shine.
EXT: Beyond the wall-crack, grass was dotted with geometry, & mist disrupted the sunshine
A titan moved on the horizon, a god reigning over where not even birds could sing;ⓘLevel 128 - "The Great Outdoors"Clockwork moving things creep across the plains, just outside normal sight, laying without thinking the knells that will one day resound throughout the random stars.-
We crawled along the great plain until a feeling in the air — "Shit-" — the fucking
Sights of the beast is on us, its breath mingled with our
Electrified fear and sweat as we dashed behind the barrotes3 of the world.
"What do you think we do?- We can't move, I see nothing-" | "We stick together,
Dear… there's a light I see, though it'd be at world's edge… a shine, for our
Souls." And your quiet reply, against staccato thunder-steps, "Let's dash there together
Before the beast sings of our sweet flesh and fucking rips us all-apart."
40 I hold you tighter than the pillar, as I search
For the speck of hope I'd found — "Look there! It dances
Refracted, put it at minute 58… " A bit towards the beast. My innards lurch
At the thought of retreading to the hot, foreboding form — but advances
Aren't always forward, and it's our only hope; "It's got to work."
Softly and swiftly we sneaked, hoping the beast saw us as ants and not pests,
Calling on all the Gods we knew for mercy at this direst hour;
The beast's wind tore through us, the stink of pesticide. All the while,
Its gaze on us.
We walked until its brown muscles ripped across its horrid bone husk.
50 The light refined: a crack in the wall, reeking and so vile
As to make us question the wisdom of the venture — and above us, the power
Endlessly shifting, endlessly watching… until we spied the bakers' nest.
And we dashed.
And we barely avoided its idle swipe.
CUT: The dusk is young, and the dust in the restaurant is like frosting for our wanderings:
We see the back-end VCR, we laugh at the cha-ching! of the ancient registers,
We take the MJ and Bee-Gees CDs, and we hope one day to hear them playing.
"Do you get a feeling…" You start as we try to find a panaderia in the mix,
"-That we can't be here long?" I end, squeezing your hand, relishing the sweet pleasure.
60 As we find a quesadilla4 and some 锅盔5, the cool air and warm light begging we rest
I'm reminded of something crucial, the thing for which we'd weathered
Disapproval and dishonor. We stand together in the seeping sunlight, grateful for our luck;
I reach into my wallet, removing a Jared's design card — the pickup date marked yesterday.
"I hope we've struck a new beginning, somehow.
I know you and I are horrified at the thought of staying,
But I want you to know that I want to live life with you
Through any illness or ailment, 'till death do us part."
"Holy shit… I'm…"
"The big wedding's no more, but I think some good food's a great bow."
Quietly, the moment an aberration against this aberration: "Oh God — I do, I do, I do."
70 The details of our honeymoon I needn't now recount:
You and I remember the touch, you and I remember the lazy love,
So instead, we'll CUT TO: A dark hall, a dungeon of steam and creeping thingsⓘLevel 3 - "Electrical Station"A necessary threat, but how terrible it is to see the Backrooms punish travelers in this way! What have you done to, Idle Yellow, to deserve this sort of trial? Do you want to see us gone, rotting in the ground? Well, you won't get the satisfaction.-,
Where we have been ejected to face the Backrooms head-on.
We amble through the pathways, the breaks in the brick pounding, and circle about
For anything, anything, that might help us escape this cage we've been shoved
Into. The masses of darknesses are cold. It is only you that augments me, keeps me moving.
An hour passes, and just as I open my mouth to speak, a new fear spawns:
You point at the end of the hall, beyond the LED checkpoint, and there's a moving mound —
Flee! — It grapples along the foundation, rolling feet slamming, troves of flesh
80 Bounding, gnashing its teeth, hoping to have us bleeding
In its boundless belly, to gnaw for dessert on our bones!
"Here!" You call out, pointing to a dislodged beam ahead, its nails still intact.
I jump up as I run and grimace as it tears, splinters showering into my hair
Our steps can't come fast enough — the clump is still coming, and we'll soon be backed
Into a shifting corner, the cache door now gone. We descend into the lair,
Outpaced by the thing, its vengeance exact —
And then
I feel tongue on my skin.
I feel my arm bending, the wood slamming.
90 I hear someone, I can't make the words out with the panting.
I feel the heat of dozens of people on my leg.
I feel blackness descend over me.
. . .
I feel you stroking my hair. I am too tired to look around. Half of me is ablaze.
I turn wingwise, your silhouette popping over my baggy eyes,
as I awaken to the cool wood bench — I'm open now, but unable to rise.
"What happened?" is all I can bear to say, but the stabbing pain
Tells me all I need to know. "You got it good, it got you good," You begin,
"But not for forever — R&R'll work some magic. It's… just tragic
100 That the Valley is far from usⓘThe Withered RoseLuckily, we aren't the only lovers in this world. Perhaps we'll need to track them down, if you keep up that parenting talk. for now."
Now, you come close to me, now I feel your warmth — now
there is the ever-pervasive feeling that I am unworthy of your eyes.
But a twinkle within them reminds me of our eternal promise, and I rise
slowly, with you holding me, to finally witness the beaches pastⓘLevel 48 - "The Sunset Beach"A little respite, then it's off to our biggest leap yet: the boundless sea.- my pain.
How beautiful they are! How magnificent their broad plains, that they can begin
At infinity — past the sea — and stretch, blue-bleeding, all the way to me. Tragic
That their beauty be wasted on a now-cripple such as I. You read me — "Tragic?
How ridiculous you are, my love! I fear that I love you still more now
For having nearly died for me. What does it matter that you bear scars? Wipe your eyes,
110 Please. I will help you find a car, and together we will rise
Past stupid pain." I chuckle at the enthusiasm; it is easy to listen, but hard to follow — Pain
Is many things, but she be not stupid. Still, I will try. Still, I will once again begin
A new voyage into that daunting orange horizon whence the palm trees begin.
It is many minutes of gasping limping before we find a little sedan, replacing the tragic
Thom6 in the disc slot for the jubilant Gibb. You let me carefully into the back now;
I lay on my back, crying-red leg up, face turned to quench my thirst for your eyes.
We travel this way for days, the wind blasting, you always wanting the volume to rise
And my asking for a bit of a peace — until the night, when we rest and love, despite my pain.
Eventually, we roll into a place, just as my leg begins to dull, my pain
120 A little more a-side. There are villagers here, and they begin
To balk at the sight: Two "Frontrooms" lovers on 48: A paradise, yet still so tragic!
I contend they're Earthly as I, that they limited themselves… there's no time for doubt now;
For their self-tragedy, despite their summoned joy, there's a death within their eyes,
And they'd like us to "'keep our mirth!'" We go listlessly through the people, we rise
Up to their questions, and they too rise
To our hopes for a quiet resting place. The whipped sand comes in my wounds, a bit of pain
Comes up, but we make it to the inn, where at once we'd like to begin
Our true planning, the deep thought of the safe, when at once the tragic
Is allayed and the only destiny made known: we are now
130 At the edge of the fucking world, together with a future in our eyes.
Shining, singing, we now rise to begin
Our new fucking world together.
The ultimate fate is tragic, our eyes carry pain,
But praise be to any gods out there —
We are satisfied with our talk, touch, and rings!
There is something more to do.
I discover it in the dead of night, as you come to me
Pacing effervescently, your obvious bubbling mood about to burst
With the enlightened zeal of a reporter on the breaking.
140 "What is it?" I ask, void of expectations, hoping it's the best:
I'm a bit of contrarian in that way: I will shit to be great.
You stop and sigh, clear your throat, prep your words,
And them they tumble out of you, a broke dam that isn't worth a damn.
"There's a city we can reach, full of people
And opportunity. But the chance is closing soon, the leap
Of faith needs to happen soon, and I don't think you can be ready
For the trial soon to come."
"Well, hit me with that shit!" I curtly reply, startling you to look at me
And my best attempt to hide
The fact that I'm dreading even attempting whatever you claim —
150 If you didn't think that 3 was out of reach, what could possibly be?
"I'm glad you're excited, but in order to reach 11 —
I've talked to the villagers, they say this is part of why none ever try —
We need to nearly drown. Four minutes at the bottom,
Near a glitchy part of the seafloor, before a rock will move out of the way,
And let us in out of a manhole."
"Four minutes? I can do two and a half right now —
if they give us even a bit of prep, I'm sure four's doable soon."
"It needs to be pure, they said, that's part of what the MEG people said."
"Shit — it's fine, love, we can work to it. How long've we been endowed?"
160 "Tomorrow."7
. . .
Steady, centered — these are the words that dominate
As I limp towards the water in the madrugada8 of our fate.
With your cue, I begin to distance, letting the water hit the small tourniquet:
It singes me, but I control myself for you — to beget
Any sign of pain now, that would be an ending irrecoverable.
Irrecoverable, that's this attempt:
I muse to myself as I feel the jets
Of the sea shift me around, as I descend
Into the Crown, turning myself upside down — it's been penned
170 That way, supposedly, for it is the final part of this coast
That people remotely care about, but to which no one tries to go.
I see why now: I reach out and feel your breast in front:
To the right, rock, and the left coral. Am I just a dunce?
To imagine this shit was possible? Because I feel myself burning up,
Up our spirits go, as I start to rebreathe my own air —
I used to like holding breath as a kid, but in this lair
It's nowhere near as fun. I never learned to open my eyes underwater,
But I start to relax my eyes; I see you looking at me, proud, only aware
Of me. How funny it is, that we've found a center in each other:
180 Who else is lucky as us, who else has found a way to assert
An answer to this hellscape, the antidote to isolation,
the antidote to our burning lungs: lovin'.
It would have been scary — I thought it would be now —
But when I realise we will either succeed or die, there is only peace.
Only fate holds the answer, and she will give it to us soon.
Somehow, I've realised, she will never make our lives unfair.
With each other, the curveballs are indicated.
With each other, the fastballs are slowed.
How strange it is,
That we lived together at the same time, at the same place
190 That we met at all outside Vallejo. How lovely it is, that we said the right things, and made
Ourselves a thing. How amazing that we ever lived at all.
My sides are almost red-hot, my oxygen almost goes,
But then I feel myself flipping —
194 Saltwater turns to moist air.
Out where the wind blows…
The crown of desolation / Weighs heavy upon / Fortune and devotion. If I may / Trangress, with a lock and key, / To make some rules that are worth following, / It may be the best thing in the world. / By the door, the tryst begun, your smile / Seemingly sempiternally sweet. / I hope I never see it turned over, never see the ghost / of a future long faded.
