To Kiss the World Through a Veil of Lead


You are a great ball of fire. You spin amidst nothingness, following gigantic elliptic orbits. You sense darkness, and coldness, and emptiness, and vastness, and quietness. You feel yourself unwillingly drifting towards this inscrutable obscurity.

You are a great ball of fire. You are spinning and as you spin you pull things inside you. The faster you spin, the more things you pull and the more stable you are. The slower you spin, the more you wobble, the more you start drifting into the dark embrace that surrounds you. The things that enter you bring with them information, sensations. You cannot see, you cannot hear, you can only feel through these objects and their magnetic fields and the particles they release upon disappearing inside you.

As each thing enters you and feeds your flame, it falls; and in its fall there is the cutting of a thread, a trigger of momentum that activates unbridled entropy. And this entropy unmakes each thing you have come to know as you shred, burn, distend, cut, pulverise each single molecule that draws near. You are a great ball of fire and your insides are shredded burnt distended cut pulverised carcasses of things that are unmade and in their unmaking bring you light and push you away from your own unmaking. You must keep spinning.

Flame, upwards, downwards, spark and light — photons. Oxygen, ammonia, flame, flame flame. A crackle, a wail, a cracking; then spin, spin, spin. Slower now, touch, screech, grab, temperature rising, burn, boil, blister, blaze. So many unmade. In your guts, in your spin, in your fire. Wobble, rise, fall, flare. Faster. Red and blue, a light stronger than anything anyone has ever seen, but you cannot know for you cannot see. Flame fire flame flame flare fire fire — flame, flame, flame.