*

… Now she was out in space my Soul had turned astronomical on me. I decided to give her free reign, as much rope as she wanted. Enough for a thousand and one hangings…

“The Water Maiden has sacrificed her heavenly wings and impregnable habit for a dip in the river. She is naked as the morn and splashing about like a new born pup in the wending, silver white … She is carefree and happy…
…Radiant as a flying fish or a sated frog. The trees along the river bank transform their branch tips into shimmering leaves, leaves which dance about fruit ripening into bright stars… in a sigh… arching resplendently into the blazing heavens…”

She swayed up close, parted my lips, and entered my mouth…

“The eighth and final star to accost the sky is a misfit, stark and black as the cold dark space her Pilgrim has spent his whole life traversing… The birds quiver from their nests, with a croak, as the hours relinquish his body: a sheaf of dead skin shivering away in a twisting spiral of rainbow tails which surge and bubble: kiss gurgling fingers made shiny little fish, gulping protest against the air, silvering into the freedom of the current…”

I was glad to hear from her, of course I was… but she was going too fast…

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