Passive Revolutions

Ron Koppelberger

Passive Revolutions

The daily marriage of Sumpter Sash and Gretta Gashing was a romance in discrete fame. An underground mascara thick and ashen gray covered them in a cloak of shadow. The precautions were arrayed by brilliant intervals of light and endless seas of twilight. The betrothal of light to the silhouettes of long shadows in reflection.
The pause between grooves of glowing sunshine and the caste of binding mirrors and smoke defined their love of union. The spirit and the confederate allay of an ascending forethought and the trail of cold wound web followed their paths in the wont of an unbridled desire to be close to each others gift.
Standing in gaping submission to the flames of an elevated innocence, a promise of cyclic discretion, they found the way of betrothal and sweet sanctity in twilight.
Sumpter ruled the day and Gretta submitted to the shadow of his luminescence, notwithstanding, Gretta ruled the blessing of twilight and inward shadows; she announced the indigo beginnings of tall encounters and the remedy of night unto an ancient day. A substance of breath and suspiring sleep, dreams and the morrow. The marriage of day and night.