Cocoon

He disappeared wrapped in leaves, his eyes smudged in soot, into the deep world underground. In his place, there was a silky, crescent shaped egg.

She understood the letters and pictures given to her in a reddish light. She crawled through the streets and savored the taste of the eyes in her mouth. In her thoughts she pictured it, the taste of her destiny.

A sound came away from the eyes, he was sucked into the abyss of the world that had given birth to him. The silence crowded the hole where he was to live.

She insisted on getting used to arms and legs and ears and eyes and the human body she needed to be. Everything in her felt distant but a knife had cut her, a bite had tear important from her, sweat dropped from her forehead. She was bound to disappear eventually in a wave of doubt.

He spiraled out of control, out of the road, his thoughts mixed and confused, into rivers of cold human behavior. A loud thump greeted his eyes and made them fall apart into every direction.

She slithered her way through the grass of towns and rocky dirt roads built through centuries. She seized every moment, engulfed in a mania she cherished and a quiet discovery nobody else had uncovered. She was getting used to herself.

He could not stop screaming.

She could not stop grinning.

He read the signs of his hands. A line told him he would die, that a new life was sure to thrust his life upon him and make him alive. A line told him that he would get used to new eyes and new warmth. A line told him that he was going to feel wonderful every moment of the day. A line told him that he was ready to be kissed and saved.

She destroyed what came forth in her path. She traveled into the moonlit crowds, stinging each living thing one by one, throat by throat, eye by eye, into life and unknown directions. She knew how it felt to die this way and she wanted others to experience it too.

He sensed pleasure because he could die today, that the world could be so well known, that he could tell the future by the movement of his eyes and the swallowing of his tongue. He danced in the blade of what he was really thinking.

She screeched and fell after the last remaining enemies were no more. The mouth opened very beautifully, in a way that made it look grotesque. She kept their eyes as prizes, their limbs as trophies, their lonely lives as a way to make them create themselves into the powerful thing she was.

His life was closer to death than it was to life. No emotion flowed from his eyes. If only, if just only.

She closed her eyes and dreamed mouths.

He woke up and gasped.

The egg broke and dipped in green blood, out came a woman, her eyes were long.