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We work in rich darkness, as the wars wretch and vomit fire, as life blossoms from suffering. In the darkness we become sinners no matter what we do, but we do not become dried up by grief. We do know of love, and desire could rest and then set strideupon our desiccated tongues. With vicious pleasure we listen to the hum, buzz, scream, and watch darting blips of a seraphic majesty of miracle machines attached by wires and tubes to patches and veins and hearts. A collective stuttering passionviolently inserted into a beautiful sound used to come to life. Our loving words drag us under the heaviness of this bliss, beneath the thrust of heaven and the caress of a good night kiss. We drag this out - to drag the life out of you.