6/12/2024

Cold winds scrape up flesh re-scarred and scraped again where the vacant stomach lies exposed. Chained to a once flying carpet which is in turn latched to the mountain’s side, with the carpet’s belly exposed save for the anthropomorphic form that shells it. A crow perched on a head of grayed hair plucks another clump of wet, dripping ocular nerve from the socket – its distended gut then hangs further down and around – covering the whole top of the silhouetted figure’s head and face. Soon the crow will be unable to snatch its most dear pleasure. In ecstasy, the crow gobbles yet more, the nerve regrown slightly past the place where he severed it last. The figure shivers. They are used to the crow, and will miss him when he starves, without flight to escape this perch or mobility to claim more of the figure’s sight. The agony of the crow is constant and familiar. But this cold: it is new and frightening.