lacey-books

"To Porvhuud, I gave eleven days. Hear, eastman! Eleven and a morning, till I was rid of its turf. And there did I hear songs of carnal instrument, revelation to my ear, revelation in black! I awoke in muds without rains, a grinding deep. Lonely, until the wind. Treetop I saw them: the critters bitten of their heads. Eleven days, in Porvhuud. Eleven and a morning. Then gone, once and forever.”