the walls grew diseased again. and he pounded heavily in the ears like a good itchy aching blood vessel near explosion in the temple. teeth beared for the honor of being the only audience, eyes plaguing planted and determined to stay put on the quivering frame. though faltering to the burning want of warm skin against nervous flesh, a tender millisecond of soul arc bent me as he spoke of water, waking and wolves. the copper rings of the irises match and blow holes through time and space like so many gunship cannons. and it feels like cool silk. he memorizes each molecule of sweat before deigning to suffer but soothe the humble soul. and with a soft touch, caresses the crown and that throbbing temple, sells and settles away that precious soul, crushes the spirit to breathe it anew and speak of calmer icons in nature and the universe. his mouth to the burning ear with a tender blanket thought dripping from his tongue repeating slow motion rapid fire. close the eyes, slip away from here on a blanket of pale and cerise and drift off to oblivion.