IV.
The bonfire that fizzled manymomentslater and in between was a stationary orb otherwise. But looking closely at its centrifugal leanings you get the impression that fuzzy orb was gyrating rapidly. To uneven ends of flame it offered but sweats. Offered or offed? Does the glory transcend the fate? Shall one be a man as he will die? Orbeams were spraying off over sands desperately. Like warfueled cavalcades barely kept on leash. Yet the light faded more and more as it range extended up to the point where sands only reflected the moon's. Beside the bonfire sat their dead general. Write him off as a dead husk? But his gaze that was fixed on fire gnaws at his armoured feet sometimes. Plumply kept fore the warmth. On the front the ocean, the tides of fate dare not tell: he has been here, as a moment belongs to a minute. But the ocean responds nonetheless, my warm blood everferrying towards that thaw. Tactilely it drips from decapitation wound and a sinetilting kharga. Wielded by demure beach mother. Her stoic countenance smells of no wrath now. In this plane is she the minute itself? She stares sternly at some distance. Oblivious of the rolling bloodstream and my rolled-off head. Which is sitting awestruck some freckle feets away. Inert behind the bonfire. Soon its jurisdiction too will call their day. Now the night beckoned to the procession in recession; bloodstream ran and suckled into the water: "under shorelinepockets furrowed past the giants' reach they dwelled- porters of lux aeternae!". These were happening when clouds fell merciful on the easternmost shore. For time immemorial, the man from the ocean walked only stopping at places. It was that— when he walked the feetclasps held little and nightgums, they would not chewoff his eyestrands. Dirts and roadtoils gather on his eyes; like petal stranded on a calm pond, wooed by lispful gusts they hissed at the jetty. And his face had remained as it were. Not hissful of ressic cohorts. Like fateless meteors you- you dusts of times have fallen. And like planets frozen beyond melancholy, you amassed them about. Waters and earth fettered with redgoldbluesilveryellow. Nephriteturquoiseindigo. I walked and walked and wiped my eyejetty. Petals fell again and their colours wringed out. And then twigs fell and slept on their hinges.
Funtitled #51
For Philippe Grandrieux VI / La vie nouvelle II