17 70 into the oppressive air like solid smoke definite in their fluidity the heavens in turmoil billowing and writhing and I compress unaware buried into the damp and the vitality and the panic washes over throbbing with the melodic rattle of raindrops falling on the paving stones whilst a synthetic hum penetrates like the roar of an escalator descending down into the sultry darkness of the station a rush of anonymity coursing through the crowd whose blank faces turn to mine pools of shadow in their sockets yet the rocks seem unchanged jagged smoothness lining the cavern walls as distraught we disappear into the depths lit only by the flashes of lightning at that point just to the right of the horizon where the moon watery through the breaths of fog appears lost and dwarfed by the uneasy twilight and take your time he shouts words languidly drifting across the clods of earth nestling amongst the rusted iron suds and the country lies heavy in the air flooding through my nose as the saltwater coats my lips crystalline against the cloying factor 50 in a viscous skin over the water surface architecturally bulging and my swollen tongue rasps along the roof of my mouth before the cloud of wood dust engulfs us lacerating shafts of light through the haze yet you remain in darkness enclosed in the knowing womb of the cathedral punctuated by muddied organ notes carried by the air thick with incense soundlessly filling my lungs with their immortal voices and the mist tranquil and fluid veiling the amber then green but these buildings seem hollow flecked with age and as the withered gate falls inwards the segment bursts permeating the air with the intense aroma of orange and winter and ecstasy that glints off each frosted window and as the streetlights splutter into existence I try to climb up propelled by failure and their jeers but I slide back and feel the bland defeat emanating from the crowd who disperse leaving only an absence and footprints dark amongst the translucent snow covering the dirt track beneath me churning and bloated with leaves that shake in the fragile wind like the warmth of mediocrity shallow and guttural in the air with its sickly grey a transparent wash across the grotesque
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker