How a lot later it's, than I’d ever proposal to wish for. no matter if he used to be beneficiant, or simply creative, I’ll by no means comprehend. AFTER studying THAT THE SPELL IS IRREVERSIBLE within the fresco of you telling me the dream in all places again—one puppy killing one other, the bigger one taking the smaller one’s head in its mouth, and biting down, ready for that stillness that, occasionally, I don’t consider anymore like ready for—how chilly it's; how windless. do you know there are animals that might spend their whole lives in silence, in the event that they don’t get killed by way of anything extra violent, extra alive by some means? I used to imagine it was once as though worry, or panic, had introduced into voice, eventually, no matter what scrap of sound they’d continuously held within them, yet in recent times i ponder: was once it there from the beginning, or does it come from in other places, gift-like, like one of those tune to at the very least pass down making a song? demanding to think there has been not anything I wouldn’t have performed for you—harder nonetheless, that I ever stated so. within the dream, the surviving puppy retains altering colors—courage and disgrace, rage, devotion—as he disappears into a box that, in flip, retains altering: now a box; now lifestyles because it could have been; now the ocean, whose history—like its signature—is spoil. FROM A LAND known as NEAR-IS-FAR yet what if all discomfort is in reality for not anything— no specific knowledge after, blooming flower-like, blood within the water? To be stripped of one’s armor and left bare, death, on a box of war—that’s what humiliation intended, as soon as. take into account? There’s a colour I’ve noticeable, occasionally, prior to a few better mistake occurs that may swap every thing, and ceaselessly, quickly a existence will turn—even now, starts to … Mercy’s a cliff, i feel; a sea embellishes it; if I overlook the identify, if I put out of your mind what I known as the sea—here, underneath the different whips of the smoke tree’s twisted branches—what’s it topic? How at bay the sunshine turns out. For as soon as, let’s be nonetheless. jointly. it can be starvation, it can be intercourse, that scent, or fearfulness, or simply worry through itself—tenderer palms than ours, soundlessly, as they ultimately unyoke us. CORRECTION glance nearer, he stated. I observed a scattering of arrowheads, simply overlooked at the start, above which the river, unspooling, unspooled itself with all of the generosity of a reflect, water’s cool, see-throughable commitment … All of this inside of his demise physique, from which I grew to become, as i feel he sought after me to, like a well-trained horse that, startled all of sudden, then remembering one way or the other a manner via panic, starts off back ascending, ceremonial virtually, now renegotiates the extra tricky branches, the place they fell, saved falling … SPIRIT LAKE the entire a number of darknesses that I hated as soon as, although extra usually, in recent times, I row within them, stolen boats, blown aslant those waters … —Gracchus, fallen hunter, on your boat known as Little Crown, O crown of dying, I don’t fail to remember you. Even now, I trespass on your identify. during which TO ask yourself FLEW one of those RECKONING So grew to become our backs to the place woundable had come to intend hence wounded.