Bloom

May 18, 2009

The Clarion Blue Sky, vast and limitless, would not pay attention to anything beneath the mote in its eye its infinite blue eye

but once two months ago it looked down, accidentally, at the angel Bloom. Bloom burst forth from the tree, just one of dozens of  petite sylphs basking  ‘neath Clarion Blue Sky’s inattentive and cold view. But Clarion Blue Sky’s gaze happened downward that day, to a part of the earth where neither pillows of clouds, nor grey threads of trailed vapor, nor grotesque smears of carcinogenic fingerprints obstructed, for several seconds running.

 Bloom’s sisters surrounded her, throwing themselves theatrically against her petals as the sun’s leering eye admired her. 

She was so indescribably lovely that even the jaded universe that was Clarion Blue Sky seethed with jealousy over how pretty she was.

Fan dancers her nigh-as-divine siblings were

Fan dancers her nigh-as-divine siblings were

 

Voyeur Sun knows naught but that it wants.

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