makyo
/
zk_html
1
0
Fork 0
Code Issues Pull Requests Projects Releases Wiki Activity

update from sparkleup

This commit is contained in:
Madison Scott-Clary 2023-09-18 11:35:10 -07:00
parent 7d8fd86f47
commit 1338baee33
1 changed files with 3 additions and 3 deletions
Show Stats Download Patch File Download Diff File Expand all files Collapse all files

6
writing/3/terrifying/triumph.html
View File

@ -28,12 +28,12 @@
</blockquote>
<p>As always, Rilke dogs me, a lingering taste hidden around some corner of my mouth. Every now and then, I think, <em>every angel is terrifying</em>, and then I&rsquo;ll go about my day, repeating that like a mantra: <em>every angel is terrifying every angel is terrifying every angel is terrifying every angel&hellip;</em></p>
<p>He saw someone do that, I think I remember the story went. He was walking, perhaps out in a sulk, and saw someone face the sea, throw their arms wide, cry out to sea foam or ice or some unseen rank of angels, and&hellip;well, I don&rsquo;t remember if <em>he</em> heard them, necessarily, but that&rsquo;s how it went, right?\footnote{\cite[323]{lifeofapoet}} Who, though I cry, would hear me among the ranks of angels, and then hundreds of lines later, ten elegies.</p>
<p>So whenever I get that awkward-shaped piece of grit between my mouth &mdash; <em>every angel is terrifying every angel is</em> &mdash; I think of that scene. I think of the way we elevate the unknown to some higher place that ourselves. I think of the patterns we hunt for in the sea foam, in the waves that can take us under or bash us senseless against some barnacled rock. I think about the crush of worlds implied in the calving of an iceberg and how easily that could destroy. I think about that rank of angels who, holding me to their breast, could so easily annihilate?</p>
<p>So whenever I get that awkward-shaped piece of grit between my mouth &mdash; <em>every angel is terrifying every angel is</em> &mdash; I think of that scene. I think of the way we elevate the unknown to some higher place that ourselves. I think of the patterns we hunt for in the sea foam, in the waves that can take us under or bash us senseless against some barnacled rock. I think about the crush of worlds implied in the calving of an iceberg and how easily that could destroy. I think about that rank of angels who, holding me to their breast, could so easily annihilate.</p>
<p>Do they laugh, the sea foam, the ice, the angels?</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I write in fire across the sky, a plummet to match your rise.\footnote{\cite[129]{timewar}}</p>
</blockquote>
<p>So then, my angel, she who would live, I wish I could see your triumph.</p>
<p>So then, my angel, she who would live, she who gladly accepts her multiple selves, I wish I could see your triumph.</p>
<p>I dream of it, that moment. I dream of falling to my knees, or being so badly broken that all I can do is lay there, unmoored, and look up to the way you rise above me.</p>
<p>I strive against angels as I strove against men, against the world, against the cruel vagaries of my former self and all his countless failings. Some have left me reeling, some have left me on my knees, head bowed until it almost &mdash; almost! &mdash; touches the ground, and I&rsquo;ve had to spend a day, a week, a year catching my breath.</p>
<p>But never have I striven against angels. Never have I not striven against you, and there is sweetness in defeat.</p>
@ -41,7 +41,7 @@
<p>I wish I could see your triumph.</p>
</article>
<footer>
<p>Page generated on 2023-08-28</p>
<p>Page generated on 2023-09-18</p>
</footer>
</main>
<script type="text/javascript">