{Story thing...}
Aug. 29th, 2004 03:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolven7Birthing
Wet, grey clay, and rain-soaked earth, the slip-slick turns and wrenchings of building a vessel. Breath, hot and dry, filling the source, filling the mould and shaping itself. Clawing at the edges, bringing it back, trying to stay in the suffocating dark, dragged forward to the cacaphonous bright. The first sensation of lips on lips, defining, then, what lips are and are for, and the gasp that comes after the parting, awakening, realising that something is needed.
Aware of something circling something else and the ideas of "Thing" and "Circle" make room for "Me" and "Spiral." Inward and bright everywhere but inside, where it's still dark and wet, now, and a deeper smell than clay, meat now a lower pitch. And the thing circling the other thing screams its name to you and you can see its eye, so far away, and the bright thing being circled reflects there, and you know that, dominion or no, you will never best that circling thing. You can only hope to match it.
And all you can think is of the rain-soaked clay, of lips on your lips, but now strangely absent, of the dirt under your nails, and the cold, bright, wet, warm feeling of lonely being. Clawed forward, birthed and searching.
©Damien Williams. All Rights Reserved.
I thought that, while falling asleep to "Into the Ether," by the Cruxshadows.
Wet, grey clay, and rain-soaked earth, the slip-slick turns and wrenchings of building a vessel. Breath, hot and dry, filling the source, filling the mould and shaping itself. Clawing at the edges, bringing it back, trying to stay in the suffocating dark, dragged forward to the cacaphonous bright. The first sensation of lips on lips, defining, then, what lips are and are for, and the gasp that comes after the parting, awakening, realising that something is needed.
Aware of something circling something else and the ideas of "Thing" and "Circle" make room for "Me" and "Spiral." Inward and bright everywhere but inside, where it's still dark and wet, now, and a deeper smell than clay, meat now a lower pitch. And the thing circling the other thing screams its name to you and you can see its eye, so far away, and the bright thing being circled reflects there, and you know that, dominion or no, you will never best that circling thing. You can only hope to match it.
And all you can think is of the rain-soaked clay, of lips on your lips, but now strangely absent, of the dirt under your nails, and the cold, bright, wet, warm feeling of lonely being. Clawed forward, birthed and searching.
©Damien Williams. All Rights Reserved.
I thought that, while falling asleep to "Into the Ether," by the Cruxshadows.
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no subject
Date: 2004-08-29 05:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Thank you.