story • short
Dreams of Green
lived and told by Space Grandma, text written by Rover Three
Space Grandma landed on a planet of pyrite plains and obsidian domes,
orichalcum caves and cyan seas,
of malachite cacti and jade trees.
An entire world made in gem and stone, in mineral and metal.
Seismic activity some time passed had crystalised vast formations of quartz,
while further activity had since forced those formations out the planet’s surface.
Prism spurs pierced out in twists and shards and arcs,
and for four refractive hours ze wandered beneath and between them.
At nightfall, as ze settled down to sleep atop a field of chrysocolla blanketed by ochre lichen, according to a certain cosmic custom ze called out a welcome to the planet. The chance to meet, to know, to explore personally and a little more.
Deep in the night, with the moon at its height and the field aglimmering and aglow,
colors moved across zir body and waters, and ze felt zir self yield.
Red roamed,
heat feeling its path atop zir topography,
awakening atoms, charging zir microcosmos,
sending them spinning in suncentric circles
that washed in waves of thrice-woven warmth
from zir first layer to zir seventh,
organism growing with the glowing of a turquoise-green gloaming
that consumed and bloomed and crowned zir.
And all this happened at once, and again and again; the colors melting and smelting into multiplying mosaics of eruptive ecstatics,
as synesthesic sensation coalesced in zir throat and out and out ze moaned and moaned until the the prisms overhead
split the day’s new dawn into spectrums unmeasured.
It is said that forever since and forever still, ze dreams in green.
