Children, if you dare to think Of the greatness, rareness, muchness Fewness of this precious only Endless world in which you say You live, you think of things like this: Blocks of slate enclosing dappled Red and green, enclosing tawny Yellow nets, enclosing white And black acres of dominoes, Where a neat brown paper parcel Tempts you to untie the string. In the parcel a small island, On the island a large tree, On the tree a husky fruit. Strip the husk and pare the rind off: In the kernel you will see Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled Red and green, enclosed by tawny Yellow nets, enclosed by white And black acres of dominoes, Where the same brown paper parcel - Children, leave the string alone! For who dares undo the parcel Finds himself at once inside it, On the island, in the fruit, Blocks of slate about his head, Finds himself enclosed by dappled Green and red, enclosed by yellow Tawny nets, enclosed by black And white acres of dominoes, With the same brown paper parcel Still untied upon his knee. And, if he then should dare to think Of the fewness, muchness, rareness, Greatness of this endless only Precious world in which he says he lives - he then unties the string.
[ A hesitation proceeds the words, because he's thinking too much. He's remembering all the little things that are true and that never happened. Unreal unfalsehoods. ]
No, and she won't be able to use them again. I didn't announce what I'm doing because of what she did. It's not... good. [his voice is tight] Might not work and I might end up as inmate if it goes bad.
[Vin cuts on the feed, then cuts it off after a moment's hesitation. Viscerally uncomfortable, inexplicably pleased. She hasn't said anything yet, because . . . because. But.]
[And on again.]
You asked the question because you think you know the answer already. Right?
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[She's so pleased to see him.]
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...You reminded me of a poem. 'Old on while I find it.
2/2
Children, if you dare to think
Of the greatness, rareness, muchness
Fewness of this precious only
Endless world in which you say
You live, you think of things like this:
Blocks of slate enclosing dappled
Red and green, enclosing tawny
Yellow nets, enclosing white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where a neat brown paper parcel
Tempts you to untie the string.
In the parcel a small island,
On the island a large tree,
On the tree a husky fruit.
Strip the husk and pare the rind off:
In the kernel you will see
Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled
Red and green, enclosed by tawny
Yellow nets, enclosed by white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where the same brown paper parcel -
Children, leave the string alone!
For who dares undo the parcel
Finds himself at once inside it,
On the island, in the fruit,
Blocks of slate about his head,
Finds himself enclosed by dappled
Green and red, enclosed by yellow
Tawny nets, enclosed by black
And white acres of dominoes,
With the same brown paper parcel
Still untied upon his knee.
And, if he then should dare to think
Of the fewness, muchness, rareness,
Greatness of this endless only
Precious world in which he says
he lives - he then unties the string.
Robert Graves
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Congratulations, by the way.
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[ A hesitation proceeds the words, because he's thinking too much. He's remembering all the little things that are true and that never happened. Unreal unfalsehoods. ]
What do you mean, retrained?
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[Not necessarily a good thing, either.]
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Also, Kelsier's an idiot.
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Anyway, it's not like anybody ever gets 100% fixed. If they did everybody'd be really boring.
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Didn't get a chance to say anything when the announcement went up but glad you made it.
[a beat] I'm sorry about Elena.
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[ He speaks slowly, trying to think through how he's going to greet this, given the fact that the last time he really spoke to Arkin he kissed him. ]
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Nuh uh.
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[And on again.]
You asked the question because you think you know the answer already. Right?
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[ That there isn't something wrong with him, for not being sure. For still having so much anger. ]
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Which is to say I believe you're right.
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The actual latest
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Private: cw - images of past self-harm
Private: cw - images of past self-harm
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