10.14b

I've seen an eclipse so badly that I couldn't do it as well again if I tried. Not solar. None of that daylight-waking-no-fooling-where'd-the-sun-go trash. A lunar eclipse, in which not only is light an object of mystery, but so also the memory of it, an eight-and-a-half minute desperate streak frustrated from its destination by both direct and oblique means. And aren't I the same? A desperado discouraged by both direct and oblique means?

I was once close to the sun while I watched an eclipse, body to body, and she chose to eclipse herself. Right there, where the earth meets its end and the clouds pull clothes on the panicking cosmos, the sun was too much for itself and died away.