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i.
the world is ending and i have no home.
for many days now
this is how every story has begun.
this is the refrain
behind every painful breath:
itch, grit, maddening hunger,
impossibly saturated sky and
thirst, thirst, thirst.
this is the prelude to every memory spoken or unspoken
of a time that —
we all agree —
we should have appreciated more.
ii.
there is a woman whom i love.
but i'm tired. we have suffered
deprivation and sickness and fear
and more indignities than the land has sand;
she is impossibly good: this never makes her hate me.
or if it does,
she hides the bitter taste well beneath her tongue.
i am a weak woman
i have always been weak,
the sight of this world and everything in it is making me sick.
i get up, dislodging more sand with the gesture. i am made of sand. she is made of sand. time is sand, life is sand, every sip of water is more sand than water
sand, sand, sand.
i start to walk away
in the coolness of the night. there is nowhere to go
and nothing to hear but sand.
iii.
and i tire easily because i am hardly alive.
i should be asleep, like milly;
my weakness will only generate more weakness. i'll be tired and whiny tomorrow.
i pray
to a god i do not believe in
to be anyone but myself.
iv.
someone else is there.
their presence is like the silent crackle of danger;
like the blinding shine of the indifferent suns.
v.
you.
i know them. it's you.
i know you too, small human.
my already overtaxed muscles tense.
what do you want?
i mean. to what do i owe the pleasure? of course.
they laugh. it is many voices. many rippling crackles
of danger
?
or simply of the unknown?
must you have a reason from me?
i wanted to see you.
why?
must i have a reason.
their eyes —
what can i say — everything is reflected there.
large. glowing. saturated
with the unknown
?
or the indifferent
like the sky. this
is No Man's Land itself.
wanting sweeps over me like madness
i need to touch i need to feel i
need to know. with my hands,
my eyes, my tangled hair and my aching legs.
you seem moved.
perhaps i am.
lying takes energy, and all of mine is already used up
just keeping me breathing.
the alien creature says nothing.
but i know they have received and understood
these wild and worthless human flesh-thoughts of mine.
i have seen you they say. more times than you know.
i am i and i and i,
more than you can see or comprehend.
on this our land we do not struggle like you water-starved things
this our land is enough for us
and i
even have some time to spare for leisure.
i blink. it pains me
(there is sand in my eyelashes).
are these riddles i say or am i too ... "water-starved", as you say
to catch your drift?
you. they smile like the sparse clouds parting
like the towering curve of a dune.
you make good sport.
i am afraid
but before i can give voice to the tremors snaking down my spine,
they continue:
i watch you humans to be surprised. sometimes i can guess what'll come next
sometimes no.
sometimes it is funny, or exciting. sometimes i am moved by beauty or by wrath.
you
they shrug and smile. (shrug off the smile?)
you are one of the beautiful humans.
at that my breath slips away
like the weak shifting breeze across the dunes.
i stare. i realize how stupid i must look.
shut your mouth and think i tell myself.
thank you, Zazie.
you are one of the beautiful Worms.
was that gauche? i try again —
i mean. i know you're all the Worms, really! but...
i'm sure you know. i'm sure you chose to look this way for a reason.
tell me more they say. sit in front of me, limbs tossed across the sand in careless grace.
what else am i like?
i shiver
under the influence of something other than fear;
i am mad
all of us on this planet are mad,
and madness makes me bold
vi.
can i show you too i say.
be my guest. their eyes flicker
or else it is the stars flicking in them.
i laugh. the sound is soft in volume but harsh in tone
what are we humans if not your guests, Zazie?
correct answer. it would be boring were it
not so rare. i am sorry. i guess we are
a simple and bitter people
and hospitality
is a thankless thing.
have i been so hospitable?
they toss it out indifferently. i have killed
ones like you. just as your kind
have killed of mine.
it is the unchangeable balance
of living things: you were hungry, so
you took and ate. we were hungry, so we
took and ate. not all humans taste the same, but
i doubt i could describe the difference to you. what matters
the very most, i'd say, is the moisture. humans are just full of it.
they grin. i wonder the suns and the heat don't boil you.
they wait for me to volley back. my heart
beats beats beats beats
beats beats
beats
bea
be
a
at
ats
beats
beats beats
beats beats beats beats
because i know it's important.
that this night is hanging
in some sort of
balances
but i
—
i am tired, Zazie.
what do you want me to say?
what i asked for originally. tell me
what i am like. and you said
you'd show me, too.
fickle bug.
i don't get them at all.
suppose that's why
i want so badly to learn with
my hands. so then
it's alright to touch you? i ask
with my breath in my throat.
do your worst.
you are a strange creature.
and so old. you know so much ...
information i'm sure i couldn't decode
even if i had access to it. i am not like you
and you are not like me. how can you be interested
in me? i reach out to feel their hair. pale, almost reflective
in the night; and stranger still — dry. so dry it makes me shudder.
you are ... effective at preserving water, is how i phrase it. even in this form
you put on to resemble us. Zazie nods. why waste the moisture? i did not know
if i wanted you to touch it. they eye me strangely. you humans set much stock by this hair
when you make love, don't you? i have seen it. you twirl it and tangle your fingers in it. even pull
sometimes. your human. Milly Thompson. her hair was long once, was it not? i saw you do all this to it.
yes i say. that was a different time. we could afford water and shelter. now it's too much effort to care for it ...
put on gloves they say after some moments of silence. i want you to do it to me. that is what you went for first; it is
important to humans, yes? the look on their face is unfathomable. but i can read something into it. i have them. somehow, i
have charmed the ancient spokesperson of the Worms; i am going to touch their hair. this is a mating ritual, Zazie half-asks and
half-affirms. i feel my face heating up in the cold desert night. what?! no. well. i guess it could be. we do it when we make love, like you
said. i pull on my gunman's gloves. though they are fingerless, they will do; i can't feel much drier than i already do, anyway. they bend their
head. i start to gently pet their wispy hair, right where i left off. their eyes slit shut. they start to buzz. Zazie, you've never acted like this
before, i say. or talked like this. please, i have to know what's going on here. my stupid face feels so hot, i know they must be able to
read me like a damn open book. i know i want something of them. am i going to have sex with them? how would that even work?
indeed Zazie seems to be reading my mind. i am bored they say. and i am weary with the way things are now. with Knives,
and his quarrel with the humans. in spiting you he has made you all hunger and thirst like desperate mad things.
more of my Worms are being hunted than ever before. you humans can be a nuisance. in fact that is why
i considered Knives in the first place. however, he has upset the balance. and he is unstable, foolish
we think he will do so again. though he says you all will soon be gone, and so it won't matter ...
i do not believe him. the fancy will strike him again and we Worms will suffer. at least
you humans can be relied on to mostly tear out each other's throats, and
leave your moisture to us. i stroke their hair and listen to this strange
alien discourse, and finally i come up with an answer. so i'm your
"leisure" is that it? you want me to take your mind off things?
it's a joke, but only if Zazie also wants it to be. again
they shrug and grin. and if i say yes? too casual
by far. would you accept? i have water to
share, if you are unconvinced.
i sigh. to a human, Zazie,
that's a very rude offer.
but i'll let it slide.
i don't think
i'm desperate enough to sell myself for water just yet, thank you very much.
whatever we do, i'm doing it because i want to.
i look into your eyes and i
feel strangely moved.
i ...
i am bold enough to lean in and sling an arm around them.
i have gotten so thin
i can feel it whenever i touch someone.
i haven't seen a mirror in many days,
but i assume i look awful.
i was cute once
(so i was told)
maybe i'll be cute again
when this is all over, if ever it is. no mirror,
but i have Milly to judge by. she is thinner, visibly so. i caught my breath so hard it hurt the first time i saw the faint outline of cheekbones on her soft and freckled face.
and what? Zazie bursts the thin membrane of my reverie.
and ... i stare at nothing.
bury my face in the fabric of their poncho.
more sand irritates my skin. i'm so tired
i swear i forgot what i wanted to say.
i can tell Zazie says simply.you used to be so energetic.
you would throw your little high heeled boots at Vash and Punisher when they annoyed you.
i saw it a few times
back when you all traveled together.
sadness butts into my heart like a feeble wave of sand in a listless storm.
yes, i did. those were good days.
a puff of unwanted laughter.
look at me, 24 years old and i'm already talking like an old granny.
though i guess i'm not alone in this — clinging pathetically to memories.
that's what we all do when times get hard
Zazie says
we worms also.
you are sick at heart like me
i am sure i could distract you too.
vii.
so touch me some more.
is that all we're gonna do all night?
talk a little less, touch a little more!
any way i want?
didn't i tell you to do your worst?
that's right. i slip my hands around their neck, feeling the shape of them. they start to buzz again.
that feels beautiful. limb by limb i wrap my whole body around them.
what, this? they intensify it somehow. i am holding a storm
or a jar of flies
yes. oh, yes. i bury my face in their neck, their parched bronze skin.
Zazie?
what is it.
where is the water you were talking about?
i thought you said —
i said what i said. sleepless irritation crackles like a matchstick in me. do you have it on you?
the alien creature eyes me, then slowly pulls out a drinking gourd. (everything inside me lunges for it.)
put it on your skin i say. i want to taste you, but you feel like the desert.
Zazie pulls back. stares. are we to waste moisture
on frivolities like this?
just do it. my life has been an eventful one, that much i can say for certain.
here i am instructing the Worm hivemind of No Man's Land
on how to please me.
very well they say. just this once.
court me like humans do
perhaps i have something to give you too afterwards?
you're too old to be so mischievous.
i am eternal they wave a dismissive hand;
how could i be anything else?
how clever.
they pretend to curtsey, holding in their free hand the hem of that tapestry around their waist
"like humans do" indeed. i will "court" them like i want to.
they move their graceful brown hands
unscrew the cap, and a drop pours
every star reflected in it, and both our eyes.
their skin nearly absorbs it thirstily but i am quicker
by far; i hold their thin shoulders
and follow the trail of water with my tongue
neck to mid-shoulder to clavicle
prying back the loose layers of clothes as i go.
they shudder amidst their buzzing.
i need to feel that more.
in my teeth, my stomach and my thighs.
more of that, Zazie, please.
viii.
through a barrier of clothes their body is pleasant to the touch. slim and never still. sex with a human will never feel like this. i imagine i can feel the beating wings and coiling segments and multipaneled eyeballs and stingers and exoskeleton-clad limbs and seeking proboscides of trillions of worms in every stage of life; hiding thoughtfully and safely beneath this diminutive human-like form. i close my eyes and clench my hips. my teeth bite into Zazie but not enough to break the skin (i fear what i will taste if i do). no, the creatures can stay behind their layers of arid flesh and sun-baked clothes. my legs tangle with theirs. somehow the creature is compliant yet rigid at the same time, as if not accustomed to moving this way.
zazie, we humans say something if we don't like what's going on i feel it necessary to tell them. they make a clicking noise. it sounds scolding and curious at the same time. i know. i have seen you and your milly. you and — that's enough! i get their point. of course they like to watch. i don't know how to feel about it
but at any rate, right now my body is not allowing me to care
my limbs clutch desperately at the alien creature. their hips, their slim little waist. with the small store of energy i have left i grind against them, i tremble with them. i want to feel you. i want to write this into my skin, absorb it into my innards. i need to feel this ancient and majestic thing from every angle at once.
you are warm, small human. so many more syllables than "meryl". i don't want to correct them, though. is that ... good?
it is you. they tilt their head back. why do you rub?
... i don't know. my face feels hot again. the beginnings of shame. it feels good. i guess?
what exactly? the friction? the movement? the strain on your muscles?
all of it. you. i relax my body and lean back,
panting. do you not feel good?
it is an experience. it is new. i am not bored.
i have to wonder if that's as good as i'm going to get.
why have you stopped?
Zazie. don't you ... want to tell me to do something? do you want to try anything?
are you out of patience? their eyes shine keenly in the dark. such saturation i want to call it unnatural. but there can be nothing more natural than Zazie. the spokesperson of the Worms, the personification of untamed swathes of desert and sky.
i want you to feel pleasured too. if you can. i press a gentle kiss to their cheekbone. (my already-chapped lips regret it immediately).
then continue. other human tricks, if you have them.
well ... my fingers ghost hesitantly across their face.
you keep your clothes on because i am so dry, yes?
please don't feel bad. there is a surge in my heart
ridiculous as if my ephemeral human eyes can hurt this creature, bring shame to No Man's Land itself.
no, you are beautiful. i love looking at you. but your skin ... it almost hurts. i'm sorry.
let me try something then.
please. i shiver with excitement and relief. i find i can't let go of their legs; i keep stroking them and tracing the outlines, and soon enough i am shamelessly hugging them, wrapped around them through layers and layers of sand-dusted fabric.
you're so graceful.
Zazie is silent. but the buzz, the hum, continues. i imagine
(or perhaps i understand)
that it is bemused? contented?
thank you. will you take off your things?
i want to see you too.
didn't you say you saw me and Milly going at it? i can't help teasing, even as i immediately obey.
yes. but now you're here
up close. i want to feel it for myself. don't worry, i'll use water.
off comes the protective coat, the t-shirt, the pants. they're all stiff and uncomfortable. i remember when it was possible —
not easy, but possible — to stop at a motel and shower
Zazie slicks water on their palms. then I feel hands placed on my midriff. lightly, like an insect poised to take flight
at the barest change in the air, the hint
of an incoming swat from a human's hand.
or like they're trying not to hurt me.
i approve them with a nod. and watch their brown fingers wander.
ix.
somehow the lightness of the touch is as stimulating as being grabbed or pushed up a wall or kissed or squeezed. it's a hint. exploration. sets my nerves twitching and fluttering and before they can make out what hit them, it's already gone, moved on to some other part of me. i grab at sand
which is to say i grab at nothing. my legs shift, and against my will, they tense and clench together —
do you not want me to touch you there?
where? i gasp.
between your legs.
oh god. i hear myself moaning. only if you use water.
i will. i will.
x.
painlessly i am forced apart. heat radiates in pulsating waves from below the base of my stomach. i am surrounded by the cool air of the night, the light of the stars, the saturated green glow of alien eyes and the buzz. the buzz the buzz the buzz
inside me their cool wet fingers are vibrating. the sensation of pleasant exhaustion, light-headedness, spreads through me, fills me up completely. i gasp and slap aimlessly at the sand, my thighs clenching around Zazie's arm. keep going. keep going, oh god, keep going.
the squeezing, is it normal?
i make myself relax one of my legs, but it kicks deliriously at the sand as if it is no part of me, as if i am not in control
sorry! it's so — Zazie don't stop! if this pulls them away from me i will go mad.
it's small and tight in there. are you sure it doesn't hurt?
yes! for god's sake!
i gasp it out. the words are wrenched out of my throat, my mind and my body are buoyed helplessly along a wave of pleasure. Zazie's fingers are warm now and my pussy is keeping them wet. i push myself harder against that vibrating hand, that delightful alien oddness. i'm not in pain anymore. i can't feel the grit and itch of sand-coated skin, i've forgotten the hunger and the thirst. it's just me naked but for my gunman's gloves and the panties rolled halfway down my thighs, and pleasure. so much i can't take it, i can't keep it all within me, it clamors to be freed for the world. i cry out and my voice breaks like an insect's powdery wing.
a marvel. Zazie's voice floats down from nowhere, or from everywhere. i'm only — just my hand and you're like this?
do they expect me to form words? i can't. i shiver and twist my hips and scream again. i feel my pussy throbbing again and again faster and more intense than the beat of my heart after i've had to run for my life —
but it's so easy. so easy to get you like this. there's no way it's this easy!
my back arches, my leg sends another gust of sand into the air
i'll have to come back. i'll come back to see you like this again, small human.
i moan and try to reach for them,
to grab for them. i come.
what little moisture there was in me
makes its slow way down to the sand
and is immediately absorbed
by the thirsty planet