Stavanger Bay They say that no one dies from love

lestan felt a vessel, cracked, an amphora of poured-out oil. he scarcely felt reverie's preening; he stared off toward nothing at all, teeth body flesh tissue sinew remembering how he had killed —
had killed —
as sickened as his stomach, lestan's mind lurched from that truth.
and there were no words.
and so the silence went on.