DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Deimos rose from the wooden floor, stretching out the bound muscles again, furrowing his brow, staring back at the oven. Pieces and proportions in place. Doors on hinges. Trays settled where they required. Switches and buttons adorned. “I do not think so.” And they wouldn’t really know until the oven was utilized, an attempt forged along the tribulations, schematics, and plans.
His hands went over the fringes and outside again, checking once more for any misplaced proportions, smoothing over any hardened edges. When he couldn’t find anything, he maneuvered around the forefront and back; scrupulous, meticulous, and detailed to a fault, even if the day had been long, and his thoughts echoed along some manner of fatigue. A few head tilts, a few more inspections and examinations, and all he could do was sigh, place his gaze back upon Sah’s with an air of tired mischief. “Want to try it?”
His hands went over the fringes and outside again, checking once more for any misplaced proportions, smoothing over any hardened edges. When he couldn’t find anything, he maneuvered around the forefront and back; scrupulous, meticulous, and detailed to a fault, even if the day had been long, and his thoughts echoed along some manner of fatigue. A few head tilts, a few more inspections and examinations, and all he could do was sigh, place his gaze back upon Sah’s with an air of tired mischief. “Want to try it?”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
