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Thursday, January 2, 2014

To Catch a Falling Star

Those eyes were like a colossal ship, stagnant like water, depth in there I saw lurking like Keats's condemnation of lost holiness. Yet water without odor, water without confinement, water without its sprinkle, water without salt, water without force, still water with a spasmodic embrace. There were two of them, not the eyes as obvious as they are, nor the boats my dear. Two creatures on earth, two creatures in Eden, two creatures in hell and two creatures in heaven. Though human they were, irrevocable were they like jaguars that with blazing eyes crouch for splendid hunting. Hunt, you ask? Oh hunting for love and hunting for admiration. Phantom and Lilly, so are they named, or shall I reveal actuality? Ah! Literature was never about revelation my dear, it was art for art's sake and is food for thoughts' sake.


Lilly was hunted and Phantom was a hunter, the former in a manner a soul is searched to be extracted, and the latter in search for slavery. "Lets play a game." she said, "Either you lose or you let me win." He demanded. "Being a gentleman, my Lord?" was what Lilly uttered but was it an inner cry or an external utterance he couldn't tell. "I am a promise, yet I am a vase. I am a mirror as thick as the dark. I am a sword yet subdued. You must accompany me.", he slayed. She burst into laughter that echoed through the jungle and stung him like the little chips of ice that fell apart from the branches of trees and landed on his reptile skin, "My Lord, I am a woman and you are a sadist, don't be disillusioned by the superficiality of this constitution."

.... (more later)