Posts tagged dark time 2018
It happens quietly

It happens quietly without either noticing very much. It slips along the border between invisible form and signified moment and it grows and becomes them. He senses it and says this isn’t nothing and then on that loud stormy night she wakes thinking herself dead. He dreams abject emptiness until he hears himself breathing alongside her. Hovering between almost unbearable intimacy and almost aloneness those moments seep into being and the traces unsettle her decisions with something more.

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A beginning

What do people mean when they know their bodies, when they know their inner selves, their very being? Some insight like that would be handy.  She thinks about automatic writing, she has heard it draws deeply from the edges of the unconscious illuminating the darkness. The man sees only if you do not fold your table legs together in a fit of pique because it is cold and there are no mountains. Perhaps she channels some wisdom and perhaps just gobbledegook.

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It began

It began with a stolen apple.  She supposed them abandoned, scattered as they were on the mouldy earth. It was darkish, perhaps dusk, when she saw the tree, when she was drawn to one wind fallen apple in particular. It seemed to sing to her, hummed its deep base note, as nothing had before or has since.  And although she knew that the tree, and therefore the apple, belonged to someone else, she took it, nonetheless.

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