Ex Machina OST is playing behind
him(so fuckin appropriate)
When his back goes out
a fenceline of books go up around
him
as they would because he hasnt the legs or reach to return them
to
the neat shelves from where they came from around the house
their tight rows pocked plundered
spoiled unsightly
as they had been accrued to be
they are sentries and informants spies jokers inciters
lullers and pliant lovers
Everything they were acquired and
meant to be
before
stacked and warehoused
to Wait
to Wait
How devilishly excited they were Now!
braying and rambling exerting
their wilesgripped in his staid hands and widespread fingers
slipping deft slivers through his eyes into his brain and wiggling them
erotically
And every time every time
he regrets he
hasnt tended or exercised them better
but then catches himself
reminds himself
reminds himself
free mobile bodies do that
a womans face
HUGE
floats
as if filling the side of a trembling
dirigible
trying to
interrupture him
her white chiseled teeth chatter
animated
surrounded by exquisite full lips
done up in redruby lipstick
her auburn hair is sweptback
accentuating her
cheekbones
her eyes are rapt and black
and fierce
her face drifts on its
flank from right to left across his vision
mouthing something
insisting something
though he cant hear
because the sheer volume of her voice distorts her words diction and syntax
feedback squeals and
reverberates
squelches his hearing
the vivid colors making up her face
splash psychedelically
around him on the linen floor he lays on
they puddle and ooze eclectically
electric
oil on seawater
she
tries desperately to rouse him from his reading but she cant breach the fence
or wants to risk the razorwire
of its words
1640, Day-between-Two-Ts, 20 5.
15
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