The Beginning or End of Something


Novel, so far ~ +80 sections

Each 1-3 pages long, so far ~ 20,000 words

Ancient Symmetries

Desire tossed between mystery and horror so much room to fall into the gap and gape. LuLu undergoes the gap and gape as something inescapable, more than as an escape. An ancient lap and rape by things eternal and divine – Death itself being invasion of body by the divine —

Caught up in a captivating exigency of visions, upended by clash of beauty and horror, falling into its mirror mirror.

Guiles glowing with gloom and dancing with the insubordination of doom as if at edge of a distant shore getting washed over by clouds of heaven.

Tugging at her heart the giver river of time its tantalization, prodigal and profligate, burgeoning mercilessly with the taboo.

God as pure lure whir spur – sweet festering spirits allure, a wretched battle with earth and power –

Pure and pour, hunger and whore, into sacred gore… 

Glorified by multiplication of brushes against death, hanging on that edge where Jesus fell into beatitude, the fall is a call – to unabide, sweet abode of suicide, less vehicle of escape than turbulent captive.

Mind the gap. 

Shoe in for rue in, wreck-titude, run run fly, try, ply…

No, nothing, not…

Riots, a collapse.

Uncanny arcane and shadowy with apotheosis. Uncanny whiffs the rifts of sympathies that lure beyond time…

Astonishing, LuLu’s vivid spells, depths of mysterious woe, terrifying wantonness looping after license to hang over the sides – where mystic bodes and modes cunt connect to sky skidding back through time, what lies beyond threats of meaning.

Meandering subpopulations weaving through LuLu’s yearning for Victor. 

The sacred, the semi cynical, the anti sacred, the semi mystical, enthralled and dancing with a snake up her spine, its hunger exploding in her body, violent waves of distortion, a wild card.

LuLu in the airport, waiting, about to fly off to Victor again, as good as sitting under a circling crown of light-battering flies. As time relishes itself. Pocketed in a corner by the agent’s counter, dressed in last night out.

Mysterious spikes of desire – its dementia flowing. Sky stealing away with LuLu. Livid and greedy for freedom.

Mutinous even.

Comments

14 responses to “The Beginning or End of Something”

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