Ascension Here is what I will say: Turn your cheek to me and I will paint the walls navy blue, representing the sky or the cold fires of that place. Turn it and I will make the windows a kaleidoscope with my paintbrush, the room becoming your own glass cage. It will mimic the movement of light on color and present you with a ceiling of gems so precious. Turn it and I will climb into your ear and tell you what the angel told me: that the lady ate a poisoned apple and that you, yourself, are an angel sent to help me speak. Dont turn it and I will know that it is time to rid myself of ownership. I will sit on the floor in the middle of the empty room and draw a circle in which all points radiate from my one true center. Keep that
cheek still, impassive, unmoved and I will know that while my apotheosis
is inevitable, it is unknown to you. I will know that your thoughts are
not mine. And that is my word.
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