Tanadonu Roll by XT

From machine gun fire to a clearing, a shy dog’s ears twitched in time with sounds that for us were out of reach. Squeaks eased us into spaciousness. Breath brought relief from tunnel vision grieving. Feeding back, lips crack. Weep. Raw garlic hit the back of the throat and eardrums burned. No coffee but a whole jar of honey in a week. Hummingbird wings. We tried to separate them out. We ran in low sun past iron railings and the light got cut into slices like we were batting our lashes fast. At machine gun speed a friend complained that one of us would be the deaf of her. You said she was feeling illusory beats. Didn’t want to hear. Pomegranate dripped slowly into your solo. Hearts quickened through the hole of your duo. ‘I tried to remain outside, to establish distances. And yet I could not resist the horrid fascination this ceremony held for me.’*
*Alejo Carpentier, The Lost Steps

—Lizzie Homersham

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