In summer the rich pond water was a vat of ripe simmering fruit, of varnish color: golden in the sun, holding like a rich syrup all the stock and plankton of the woods-- all untouched and rare and gamy. He rose up and walked another distance beside it. In the woods, Jungkook made up for what he never had-- he played his fingers over the hairy rock-moss and lay against the sandstone and ached and cramped and burned. He thought he never had the love of Nayeon. 'Oh, when we were lovers...' they all said-- now he begin to think it was all rubbish. Everybody had ideas in their heads and they just ran with them.
"Oh, Nayeon, I knew your agony. But did you know mine?' he spoke to himself by the still water. 'I roll over into your world in my agony, Nayeon, and I slept by you; and in my agony I was reaching out to touch the world and I touched you when I touched the world.'
When Nayeon and Jungkook looked at the map in Nayeon's kitchen that time, they saw all the life of the shaped countries-- their minds where blown globes like the world and within the worlds of their minds there was created, mapped and carried there their idea of World and of History, although they were of little Charity; and their hearts, like the Creator, pumped all the creation: in through the corridors of their veins, singing like Odysseys and Geneses, and breaking echoes of history and time and the rabbled glory of life through ages in the spaces of their minds' universe-- and creating everything again.
"Oh, Nayeon, I knew your agony. But did you know mine?' he spoke to himself by the still water. 'I roll over into your world in my agony, Nayeon, and I slept by you; and in my agony I was reaching out to touch the world and I touched you when I touched the world.'
When Nayeon and Jungkook looked at the map in Nayeon's kitchen that time, they saw all the life of the shaped countries-- their minds where blown globes like the world and within the worlds of their minds there was created, mapped and carried there their idea of World and of History, although they were of little Charity; and their hearts, like the Creator, pumped all the creation: in through the corridors of their veins, singing like Odysseys and Geneses, and breaking echoes of history and time and the rabbled glory of life through ages in the spaces of their minds' universe-- and creating everything again.
Last edited:
![Rose Competition [deadstar]](https://kpopsource.com/data/medal/635_1560819771m.jpg)
