Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Clara blew into the bottle giving life to a cosmos. This made her a Goddess. The miniscule beings in their new existence began worshipping her. They swam in their fluid waters singing hymns to her beauty and imagining how it must be to see her perfectly before them, to be nestled in the sacred softness of her skin. She was so large to her creations that even the unfathomed thought of perceiving her overwhelmed their senses into imbalance. They would splash about in disequilibrium until her tranquility steadied the waters. In the end they had no real concept of who she was or what she was, yet they unconditionally longed to enter her heaven. For Clara was a thirsty Goddess. It wasn't long before she raised the bottle for another sip, drawing scores of her minions back into their origin, to be digested by the holy juices and to flow in the blessed blood. This was part of the eternal cycle of life.