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Forgotten texts that linger in the bottom drawer.
Lethal texts like god’s face.
Snow-capped madness.
Negentropic fauna & flora.
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First man:
“Face it, this family is cursed. Every night, I look forward to watching the scattered light above the hills near the coast. I’ve been unable to determine their cause, but I’ve a peculiar sense that it’s the lemurs who are behind it. An acquaintance of mine swears he’s seen one open its mouth & emit a red light. I sweat fear, for the lemurs are already too intelligent. Isolated genes indicate a higher capacity for learning than in humans.
“The shapes pattern density, like how to form a new life. But nobody dies here. Instead, they carry breath & focus on the earth. The lemurs built architectural monuments to events predicated upon defeat. Remember nothing. I remember nothing. Remember nothing. Night becomes the space for the absolution of my first sexual experience. A holy void in its place.”
There is no one else left alive in the room. The blood spill is absorbed into the earth. This atmosphere feels like mountains of snow.
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Next:
“When you die that will be the end of your name.”
“God’s not listening.”
“No one is.”
“What is it that will kill you in the end?”
“Probably the water.”
“That or nothing.”
(An infinitude of suffered decay.)
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There can be no such thing as conversation in the medium of the text itself.
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