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zg_shadows2009-02-03 08:56 am
ksirafai.livejournal.com) wrote in zg_shadows2009-02-03 08:56 am
Entry tags:
Worldview: Inside
The room is untidy and dirty with the ground-in dirt of time and carelessness, but the walls and ceiling are gloriously patterned with spray paint and splatter. There are piles of free CDs with piles of cheap candles lit and burnt out slumping over them. There are bin bags filled with clothes, some of which haven't been ruined yet.
The bay window is huge and through the grime and smoke there are the world's most beautiful gardens, winter-crisp and clean, with the glowing gems of greenhouses visible on the horizon and a terracotta pagoda tipped delicately with gold and red dragons. But that's only in the here and now.
Two bodies sit face to face in the middle of the room. Two noses almost touch. Four eyes are open and unblinking. One mind is intertwined and dancing with reality.
It's been days already, reaching out and creating an Idea as a place and gently bringing potential after possibility, hope after wish after dream.
And then the fires hit.
Half of the mind shudders. One of the bodies screams, jerking backwards. Two eyes flash away for a second, and in that second another self is visible; a bowler hat and bare feet and a tap tap crack of chains or umbrella or bones, ashing in the flames.
Then the eyes refocus, bared teeth sliding away from wolven snout and back to stained primate, and something's sliding in place, wrapping around the anger and the loss and the empty place; a song and a bass beat and someone else's heart.
"We don't have time to stop now. Hold on - stay with me." The other, calmer, wraps his hands tighter around hers, and she nods, yang to his yin, the peace of nothing accepting the pain and making it a part of what they're building.
"We can rebuild it. We can make him as he should have been." She even almost smiles as tears cut clean trails over her cheeks, and they speak together.
"Dream the new world."
The bay window is huge and through the grime and smoke there are the world's most beautiful gardens, winter-crisp and clean, with the glowing gems of greenhouses visible on the horizon and a terracotta pagoda tipped delicately with gold and red dragons. But that's only in the here and now.
Two bodies sit face to face in the middle of the room. Two noses almost touch. Four eyes are open and unblinking. One mind is intertwined and dancing with reality.
It's been days already, reaching out and creating an Idea as a place and gently bringing potential after possibility, hope after wish after dream.
And then the fires hit.
Half of the mind shudders. One of the bodies screams, jerking backwards. Two eyes flash away for a second, and in that second another self is visible; a bowler hat and bare feet and a tap tap crack of chains or umbrella or bones, ashing in the flames.
Then the eyes refocus, bared teeth sliding away from wolven snout and back to stained primate, and something's sliding in place, wrapping around the anger and the loss and the empty place; a song and a bass beat and someone else's heart.
"We don't have time to stop now. Hold on - stay with me." The other, calmer, wraps his hands tighter around hers, and she nods, yang to his yin, the peace of nothing accepting the pain and making it a part of what they're building.
"We can rebuild it. We can make him as he should have been." She even almost smiles as tears cut clean trails over her cheeks, and they speak together.
"Dream the new world."