serial_experiments\gave

Diamond Marimba, Harry Partch The Church of Tenully does not lie in the realm of the visible, but in the fluid vibrations of air and breath and water and blood, The Church of Tenully is a hum that arises from forgotten childhood and disappears behind the veil that lies perpetually before you, masking love and death and all things that are holy, The Church of Tenully where the voices of those long dead still travel aimlessly between the walls and alcoves, voices that turn candle flames and snuff out prayers, voices that goad half-hearted confessions, confessing away from myself as horrified i hear my voice reflected in the holy water, confessing that i am not the one afflicted but the affliction, the plague to be driven out, residual noise genetics1ofamusic --celestial whirring, machine hum, the grain of the voice, all the same thing-- The angel of incidence let me down ever so slowly from the clouds, its cold stone hands still numbing my back even as warmth returned to my limbs. As i d