Sub-Ethereal II

The movement on the horizon is not alone. Their bodies look like daggers and the trees keep slipping from the soil. Her face is a star map, a doe-eyed honeywell. His face is Orion, a desert-hammer, eyes like gravity. The flowage-fold will find ways to mass out, to datamass, to tongue-kiss the celestial object. They move like earthworms and televisions screaming.