يا هشة عَ قلبي
الفرقة تئلمني
أنا ما عندي حل ..
أنا ما عندي حل ..
لا قلبي يحب مرة
لا قلبي يحن مرة
oh my fragile heart
the separation is killing me
i have no solution
i have no solution
my heart doesn't love once
my heart doesn't long for you once either
Yasmine Hamdan, Hal

Frankly, I don't understand why you don't live in the same place. Because you can't live without each other.

Eve smiles. Marlowe's sonnet seeps into the whorls of her fingers. If this be error—white-blue fluorescent lights bruise her eyes, the stale airplane oxygen acrid in her nose and so is the blood. Blood. The human swears and she reverberates the sound. A grin curls around her sharpened teeth.

She always preferred Economy. Told Adam she wanted to listen to their heartbeats, close and vibrant like so many moths. He cursed them, called them ugly and creased that beautiful brow of his.

How exhausted the city is. A cardboard box under too much weight, sagging at the corners. She knows he can't bear to leave. Grass wild like it never is in Tangiers, and Mephitis mephitis. Delightful and sad like a lullaby.

A light behind a window, and the door. His silhouette like a brief flame before he steps out into the night. Her coal-dark liege lord. Cold fingers seep through her gloves, but his grip is firm.

A moment. Palisades rising.

She's hungry, he's desperate. His panting against her neck sounds to her like sobs, stifled and keening. She holds him. Watches him slide off a glove and devour her palm.

Sees the purple roses under his hollowed-out eyes. Dark blooms after God's own heart.

Suicidally romantic scoundrel. Kit knows even if he can't understand.

How an axis needs two poles to keep the planet spinning.

Spinning into oblivion.