Daniel Grandbois

The Ritual

We went there to stand nearer each other, to hold the trunk or limb of another and move from side to side. Some glided past. Some circled around. Many pressed into jiggling clots. Light conjured notions of starry night but at hyper speed and spinning to disorient. Sound focused us in by blasting out all other thought. Our naked bodies, we hung with fibrous tufts from the seeds of certain shrubs. Of course, the tufts had been processed and stained with berry juice or its synthetic equivalent, though the colors were all but lost to the sliding darkness. Janine and I pressed our fabrics together until they were soaked with a coolant secreted from our skin. Then, we went to her place.