Zlep 143

the heart

part 63972

a statue of a bold, brazen woman — huge, like lady liberty, like a shadow of the colossus. she wears a kabuki mask, with dark, beaming anime eyes that shift into tender, glowing streaks of lightning blue electra.

her tears fly up as though her body's made of raindrops. her dress of paisley pattern droplets, flows through form and turns into swans and dragons.

a bottle cap spirit flies. something gelatinous zooms past, careening toward a burning eye, always on the run. glassy, milky, gauzey, glossy, an eye you gaze into and see light flares of distant suns.

the pupil becomes a tunnel with train tracks — a wormhole leading through a vaginal red chamber, and even past that we clip through tacky metallic walls, and keep on into a dark red death star chamber. shrouded green, ward-like beings stare down at a central thing: a holographic, violet dancing soul with horns and blue eyes — monstrous but graceful. electra's here too, twirling, dancing as she do.

here we see a spirit like the neverending story, flying through the early dawn reflections of a still pool's ripples. it’s a quiet twilight night. invisible people rock around, wearing groucho marx masks.

the forest branches into infinity, tame impala innerspeaker-style. at the center of one is an opening of trees shaped like scorsby. here are the bird people, like the guardians from metroid. pale light radiates like sparklers. in swirling constellations we spin like a glass universe — looking from the outside in, or the inside out. silhouettes of manta rays with blue auras fly past. virus-like crackling red embers cackle.

more spirits: yellow eyes, red hair. a creature like a deer or an elk, but with a hammerhead shark head and the feel of a krill. abstract sea creatures and line-art lions. wiggly, tentacle-haired porcupine things with many eyes — some happy, some sad, all tantalizing and stoic. big clown smiles and hardboiled faces.

back to that eye. silhouettes of sea creatures swim in the sky while giants roam above. you could see the stars. holographic green guardians in cloaks appear, tall radiant light emanating from their chests and big beards. their eyes are closed — watchers. the light from their chests shine on their faces; deathly; but peacefully smiling.

they open their mouth and something different comes out. it looks like a marketplace on the other side, or a beach. something fuzzy blocks the way. a tiny electric blue heart, a butterfly. it flies out the cave through triangular rock hole shapes. the whole world becomes human. a man points, and his whole arm becomes rock formation.

a bloody nose. a sad joker. hexagonal, aqua snowflakes dancing. another tunnel. i can’t see what’s on the other side, but it sure looks breezy.

wondrous things, too many to count. orange suns. faces in the clouds. then, emptiness — a single point of light. intense, aware of all things, manifest in so many forms, with a central light quite the same, casting dancers and shapes.

a new kingdom of symmetry and four-sidedness stares out into magnificence. a tiny light on the planet of darkness. a pumpkin kid smiles up at it. a guy in a fedora who looks like rorschach from watchmen rorschachs and grins.

two eyes holding hands with their eyelashes. beautiful rainbow seas. mandelbrot's paradise.

part 63973

the slow is complete. four eyes stare at one another — two masks reflecting ome. they hesitate, wondering if the other is real, then lightly touch fingers. it’s intimate, heavy. their eyes close and their faces dissolve, bleeding into a pool — a stream that cuts through the dark. a ghostly figure emerges, a hooded, praying alien creature.

baby yoshis crawl out the cave. they turn into ducklings, waddling and taking flight, but they are still swimming even as they fly. they move through an unknown liquid, gasping for breath, searching for the surface. they surge to find the plank of a pirate ship in the storm. the captain's legs stick up out of a shanty house on the deck. the ship is sinking. the ducklings scale the bow, climbing to the peak where birds turn into a frog that leaps — a cartoon surfer frog with a paddle.

4D polygonal men appear — tiki-style, not unlike the lemurs from madagascar. they wield spears of fish. a creature like a polar bear with a rhinoceros horn runs toward us; its feet are giant breasts. a corn-cob pipe sits in its mouth, surrounded by spider eyes. it’s like a crocodile, piercing the water. it looks at me for a moment, then swims on, leaving a heart in its wake.

two eyes gaze at each other painfully — fragile love mixed with anger. their faces combine into bob marley's mask that crumbles in the sea. a child shrinks into the fetal position. generations fly overhead in the zoom out. people cover their heads in shame. an eye watches from behind the wire. caterpillars, bears, hot dogs, cows and puppies.

in the reflection of a fuel meter, the car is running empty. sardine-people reflect on the hood in twilight. another eye — tender, patient — that of a seal, a horse, a movement. astral silhouettes try to congeal, but they can't find the touch-point. they mix and disappear into a low, ugly vibration. a rainbow bug flies over a crab-like horse.

angry purple jellyfish look away while tadpoles nibble on masks in their wake. fogginess, milkiness. an unlit light bulb. a coral reef beyond the wasteland, still beating blue but neglected. creatures with black pincers live at the bottom. someone falls into a wishing well. the one in a purple hat holds a baby, daggers in his back, rising to the surface to light a match. a pop-up book with the pink panther inside.

satellites watch a rocket take off. a librarian mask. blood spurts like tabasco on the ship. a crude creature with a pink nose, drawn with nails and pins. a magnifying telescope. a slime-being gives a seal of approval. a spaceship flies up, spurting purple goo.

it rains down rainbows and ice cream. holographic blue electricity. happy faces sewing the world back together. it reaches for the destination, trying to seal the gap between the limiters and the eye — an eye made of a thousand arms. people pull their hair; someone whispers to ghosts. a soldier of love. a stake drives into a vampire’s heart. a beast with red and blue eyes smiles.

it’s a happy or sad story, depending on where you choose to end it. wake me up on the shore. the boat is waiting. a gentle pull is all we need.