| A Big Day for Sailing | ||||||
| Emily Spicer | ||||||
| Tonight I saw the Virgin. She was holding her baby and the goldleaf around her glowed, pulsing with message. I blinked, to clear the effect, but the gold heart beat. In invitation? Taunt? But my heart. Heart. It. Would beat and the pounding would drown the meditation. And. Then. It would find its rapture again again again. And. Then. Warm, so warm, pushing against palms, soles. A chill. | ||||||