欝 aderphos; a happiness i can never

i wish i could tell you the answers you seek, of life and love and more, but i lack them myself
impeccably accurate songs and their spawn play inside my head as my eyes are fixed against the wall
i watch the dance of phantom spider legs
it brings me great mirth to say
"oh, what wonderful and natural movements their legs have!!"
all i can understand are the things before me
none of that which is beyond or perhaps inside me
and i am so very sorry for that.

a drowning flightless bird requires wings of water!
the strands of hair binding me to my bedframe are before my eyes transmuted into semi-permeable and translucent embers

and though i wanted to save the spiders, i keep seeing them whenever i close my eyes, imposing, battle-ready

in the calm of the storm, a voice i have not one memory of ever having heard before whispers my name

and she tells me, sharply and sweetly

"write it down!"

and at once i am filled with agony. i writhe and sob and scream foreign curses into a pillow before i can do no more than ask, nay, beg, for her to tell me the answer

"what do you want me to write?"

my own pretension tells me that i am sad i cannot know the beautiful truths she wishes me to put to words, but somehow, i know this is a lie.

i know that all i wish is that i could ever capture the fleeting iridescence of a voice so maiden, by any means..