Dominic (his day of fate)

(An experiment in style)

And did they have laps of shining golded guilt? I'm sure of it. Gold
statues of angels, sending fiery bows of the horizon over the horizon,
how can anyone fail to be moved by that? Byzantine curvy women, with
spiced throats and curled fingertips, that cuddle vicious lapdogs to
their mouths to hide mocking grins, that's where the beauty's at. They
chant to me, sending bubbles of delirious light from their lips that
burst in the twilight and bath my face in charmed white light. A walk
down a crowded street reveals to me threatening dwarves and monkeys,
their spiked teeth glowing hellishly, disguised by blonde shiny hair or
strong arms and black beards. A seat on a bench allows me to peruse one
of them. He is twisting jewels around his wrists really, and shaking
and crying, although really he looks made of skin and bone, reading a
paperback novel. I become terrified, and run back towards the golden
women, when I charge into one of them. Moving carelessly down her own
path, unafraid - or perhaps not noticing - the carrion that fly
black-winged above her head. I knock the breath from her very lungs
forcibly, and she lets open my velvet lungs, leaving them cold and free
of air. I try and apologise, but am seized suddenly by the terrifying
knowledge that when I do, she will go and be lost to me. She licks her
lips rapidly, and the world flies up as dust around me and then I am
afraid. I see myself going down the inside of her throat, which is red
and decked with ragged glass. Her mouth stretches and she invites me
inside with her tongue. And we are kissing in the high street and
pensioners tsk but all I can feel is the stars on her hands which burn
my flesh and sear her symbols into my skin. She whispers to me 'join
me' and I can only nod, a gaping hole of my head and an aching mind.
Her brain is fusing onto mine and I know that soon we will somehow
become twins, and only a dangerous separation may let both, or one, of
us, live on.
We move to a stretch of green grass and her face is pounding me and
bruising me and covering my face, wallpapering me so I can only breathe
through the cracks. We drink amber tinny liquid and I am jealous of it,
sliding down to be inside her where I can only dream of and will never
get the chance to be. I want to live inside her stomach, keep its walls
safe and shout and hear it echo around her interior. She is
high-ceilinged glass and I am stuck staring at my reflection high above
me. I am dumb and the knowledge falls from her ripely, teasing me and
opening chasms in me that could never be split quite so pleasurably
otherwise. And then she stretches and strips of skin are being torn
from me by a heavy strain. I move as she does, enraptured by us as
wooden puppets, but then suddenly we are moving out of rhythm and I
watch her disappear through my eyes which are dark corridors.
Everything is more silent now and slowing down quietly until the
silence is so loud that there is dark blue noise again and she is
getting smaller. I gag and choke with every step she takes away from me
and I can't help myself and something is happening around me as she
goes. The world is shrinking as she shrinks until everything I can see
is wizened and brown and in miniature and there is whizzing and
cackling and coughing and screaming and I have to ask myself am I in
love?

(written in 15 mins, not including time correcting spag)