Lilypew

Rounded corners, circular edges, little ridges that create indentations in soft-fleshed fingers. Tiny knobs upon circles, smooth, smooth metal, a heaviness in the hand that asserts its existence. In the dimness of the night he sits on the floor, leans against his bed, and runs his fingers over it every night before bed. He holds it until the cold of the metal gives way to the sweet warmth of his hands. It nearly becomes supple by the time he carefully sets it on the oak dresser and retires to bed. Despite his callouses each little detail sings to the pads of his fingers and recalls a melancholy unique to this moment. His thumbs caress the rol

When a Great Man dies the Earth shatters into grief while the Heavens burst with joy. While those bound to Earth grieve the loss of one of their Greatest by tearing out their wiry hair and howling at the dusky sky the Angels celebrate the freedom of such a brave soul by drinking heady nectar and singing sparkling song. As those of Earth wish him farewell with solemn whispers, wash his shattered flesh and burry his stale corpse those of the Heavens welcome him with jubilant shouts, cleanse him from his Earthly weight and raise him to Eternity. As his body decomposes and becomes one with Earth- forever bound to this land- his silvery voice is d