I walked along the bank of the Tiber river and came to a
cunning place in which the sun shot through the limbs of
neighbouring trees and pelted my chest with the speed of
golden, fire-hot arrows. I looked down upon myself and
saw the purpling blood stream tear-like down my shirt and
I stood there for a long time in reflection until a gentleman
walked by. Upon noticing my wounds he inhaled just a bit
and let out a brassy chuckle of sorts at which he then
suggested that I get cleaned up. The whispering roar of the
Tiber suggested that I stay and the beams of its bridge held
me aloft so I refused this man and he proceeded on his way.
Soon then the sappy blood rolled down my pant and I began
to ponder its course, briefly interrupted by tiny grains and
gravity. I watched one stream fall victim against the minute
twist of crumpled fibers of my pant-leg. My attention was
once again redirected as I heard through a century. Upon
the bank came visions of Blake and Yeats and an infernal
love triangle. Virginia, Virginia...
Now and in time to be
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Large black birds alighted nearby on the stones and stomping,
quickly pecked at the grimy moss for insects and portions
of a travelers meal, haphazardly falling into the cracks.
The voice of the Tiber was course and loud but could not
contain the rustling of children trampeling the cobblestone
bridge, scuttling large black birds in their wake. Passing
by, the Tiber was displeased and I... I was staid in pushing
my roots deep into the stones.
In a swift decrescendo, the now-brown blood passed over
the smooth grey leather of my soft shoe, stopping soon at
the brim of its seam then pushing itself over in what appeared
to be noble suicide. Somewhere out in the distance, galaxies
collided in the slow-fall. I remained to see the marvelous
conclusion as the bulbous cherry of blood made a soft
impact on the ground below. Sharp invisible edges of the
advantageous granules pierced the cherry-skin and the
blood pushed forth, oozing into a pool of blackened tar.
The pathfinder set and all the brown horses quickly followed
the course down my chest and into the pool in a rush of
galantry pursuit. The pool deepened as the fast brown horses
came into the corral, pushing its sides beyond limitations.
Satisfied in its course I looked up, gazing beyond the rocky
ledges of the bridge, out into the Tiber roaring.
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