And in the old songs and in the long nights
She holds him in the softness of her arms
In her arms that are open, in her arms that are wide
That are open, that are always,
That must always be open.
And who arranged it? Did Amel?
And in the long nights, and in the soft dark, she is (?near?) and that is the answer.
And that is what it means to be loved.
That’s why she lies limp in the straw?
It is Amel. It is always Amel.
Into the land where the dead are kept,
Where the dead are worshipped.
{And why in the dark? And why (?) And why still here? And why still here as the millennia unfold…}
And why the days without number
And what should Amel do with it if not to answer?
And why are they throwing stones?
And why is she curled on the ground?
And why is it wound {around her throat}?
{And why must she drink?}
And why must he break her?
And why with his hands, and why with his fists?
And in my eyes is desire.
Why is it desire? How do you know it’s desire?
How can you know it’s desire if my eyes must be lowered?
And if you are alive then so am I
And all the old songs and all the long nights
Are lies told by the old Gods
And why am I offered, when none of us wants to be offered?
And why does he tell her what God has said?
And why Amel in their mouths?
And why must my voice be smooth?
And why must I sing so low?
And why in this place must she be kept?
And what does it mean if you are not asked?
And what does it mean if you are not answered?
And what is it to see and to know, but to be told…
You have not seen, you have not known
And why is her tongue cut out?
And why is her death prolonged?
And when will it stop? And who will stop it?
And why must they, must we, must I, must he, must they, as the millenia unfold?
Why the girl curled? Why her eyes lowered?
Why on the side of the road? why limp in the straw?
I can say rise, and I can say speak!
And I am her! And I am she!
And I-I-I-I-I am the answer!
🧡them fused together, and now the spirit of the vampire
janainaart
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