“The Parthenogenetic sea anemone - a brilliantly patterned lemon yellow and cobalt blue - had become fused against the lips of her cunt where it made its home. When it shifted position, its glassy tentacles undulated ceremoniously in the dark waters; a movement replicated by the inertia of her undead flesh, and by the fine swaying of mesh of her long hair which never stopped growing, encasing her collapsed body in a brass nebula. Whenever Psychic Anemone rippled faster, she was drawn back from the threshold of nowhere into our world. Her focus would gather at the edges, then compress into a pinpoint of blistering white in the boundless night before imploding, becoming an impossible singularity of being all and nothing. From this void, subjectivity grew in definition, manifesting as an ethereal and tongue tied language.
Psychic Anemone says: Come closer, let me see you in this other night”
- Tai Shani, Our Fatal Magic
“You should have seen her limbs become slack, the bones pliant, the nails loosen their hardness. In cold water, her most tender parts became liquid. First the black hair, then the fingers, the legs, the feet and the transformation of her other delicate limbs. Following these, her should ers, back, hips and breasts dissolved into small streams. Finally, water entered the place of living blood, her broken veins until nothing remained to be grasped”
- Ovid, Metamorphoses