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[Video clicks on, and Loki has taken off his amazing helmet, and is actually quite simply dressed today! He's sitting in the garden, and has a book from the library open on his lap. He lifts one finger, when recording starts.]
I like this, and wish to impart it to you all:
[He clears his throat a little, then reads aloud from the book]
Waking up in the same skin isn't enough.
You need more and more evidence
of who it is that
wakes up in the same skin.
But what evidence?
Reality is unreliable: a whirlwind
of dust that appears
and disappears every day.
Your thirst stretches out it's white dunes.
Every day in the dust
you distinguish
not islands but their darkness
heaped on the polished mirror of a sea.
Not doors but their shadows
slammed in the house of wind.
Not lighthouses but their half-second SOS
in red, green and yellow.
Not language but languages.
Not a hand closing a curtain
but a hand.
And the day is over,
not wiser than the night in which
you waited for someone
who came and wasn't what you waited for.
[He lowers his hand, and smiles faintly, to all appearances completely at peace with everything about the world.]
It's written by Kapka Kassabova, of Midgard. I like best those first few lines, the thought of doubting who it is who shares your skin...
[He closes the book, and smiles again, before reaching down to end the feed.
Yep, this post was literally Loki just publicizing the fact that he is alive, uninjured, and happily enjoying poetry and sunlight up in the gardens while the Avengers are all FLIPPING OUT FLIPPING OUT EVERYWHERE OMG!]
I like this, and wish to impart it to you all:
[He clears his throat a little, then reads aloud from the book]
Waking up in the same skin isn't enough.
You need more and more evidence
of who it is that
wakes up in the same skin.
But what evidence?
Reality is unreliable: a whirlwind
of dust that appears
and disappears every day.
Your thirst stretches out it's white dunes.
Every day in the dust
you distinguish
not islands but their darkness
heaped on the polished mirror of a sea.
Not doors but their shadows
slammed in the house of wind.
Not lighthouses but their half-second SOS
in red, green and yellow.
Not language but languages.
Not a hand closing a curtain
but a hand.
And the day is over,
not wiser than the night in which
you waited for someone
who came and wasn't what you waited for.
[He lowers his hand, and smiles faintly, to all appearances completely at peace with everything about the world.]
It's written by Kapka Kassabova, of Midgard. I like best those first few lines, the thought of doubting who it is who shares your skin...
[He closes the book, and smiles again, before reaching down to end the feed.
Yep, this post was literally Loki just publicizing the fact that he is alive, uninjured, and happily enjoying poetry and sunlight up in the gardens while the Avengers are all FLIPPING OUT FLIPPING OUT EVERYWHERE OMG!]
