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Rated: 18+ · Other · Fantasy · #1368779
Are we dreaming?



                      ~magic casements, opening on the foam
                        of perilious seas..~

      A painted woman floats over Muzzy's bed. She points a wand to
  the spinning clouds above.

                        "Seven are the days of a woman's defilement.
                        Nine are the months of pregnancy.
                        Two are the breast that yeild the milk.
                        And one the child that drinks."

  Muzzy rubs his eyes, "Are you a Weather Lady?"  Her face grows
  dark, then radiant like the rising sun.. ..

                       
                        "There are ten doors.
                          When one is open, nine are shut.
                          When nine are open, one is shut.

                          Seven issue! Nine enter.
                          Two yield milk and one drinks."

  "More snow?" Muzzy puts his face back to his pillow. The lady appears
    in his pillow, "Eeeep!" He lies atop her painted body, "Are these weather
    symbols?"


                          "At the etternal chained gates.
                          The first of seventh.
                          The world unlocked is made a pefect work."

  "Do you weather ladies like to make snow angels?" Muzzy floated atop
    the Weather Lady's painted body, "I always get excited walking in the
    snow."  There came a great thunder from the turbulant ceiling of nimbus
    clouds and then a peaceful sleep.


                          ~Within a single leaf is woven
                            the work of the world.~

 
  (*)(*)
                           
© Copyright 2008 bob county (muzzy43 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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