There are no screens, no books, no warning labels, no voices, no bed or chair or table or control board or toilet or telltale lights or clocks. There is always an Out in an In, something wrapped around another thing, flesh coiling and uncoiling inside, outside. A piece of debris slashed through the leg of Gary's suit to the bone, through the bone. Blood and fat and muscle swelled from his suit into vacuum. The alien's vessel also broke into pieces, its lifeboat kicking free and the waldos reaching out, pulling her through the airlock. Not her come, which slicks her thighs to her knees. She feels it inside everywhere, tendrils moving in her nostrils, thrusting against her eardrums, coiled beside the corners of her eyes. When an Out crawls inside her and touches her in certain places, she tips her head back and moans and pretends it is more than accident. If she ever remembers another line, she promises herself she will not wear it out. She uses the other, a second tube, for whatever comes from her, her shit and piss and vomit. Her ability to compare anything with anything else is slipping from her, because there is nothing to compare. Eventually she cannot even remember the sounds of them. It is quite possible that she is not a rescued castaway. She sucks her nourishment from one of the two hard intrusions into the featureless lifeboat, a rigid tube. There is a time when she screams so hard that her throat bleeds. But perhaps its soft blades against her fingers would feel just like the alien's cilia. She cannot communicate, but she tries to make sense of its actions. Perhaps the sex is communication, and she just doesn't understand the language yet. It is not that they cannot communicate, that she is incapable; it is that the alien has no consciousness to communicate with. On the starship with the name she cannot recall, Gary would read books aloud to her. She has worn them treadless, and they no longer gain any traction in her mind. On the off-chance that this is will change things, she drives her tongue though its cilia, pulls them into her mouth and sucks them clean. She has lived forever in the endless reeking fucking now. Gary, miraculously alive pulling her free, eyes bright with tears, I love you he says, his lips on her eyelids and his kiss his tongue in her mouth inside her hands inside him. Bright sun and cool air, grass and a cloth to lie on. [Verse 1] Look inside, look inside your tiny mind Then look a bit harder Cause we're so uninspired, so sick and tired Of all the hatred you harbour So you say it's not okay to be gay Well, I think you're just evil You're just some racist who can't tie my laces Your point of view is medieval [Chorus] Fuck you, fuck you very, very much Cause we hate what you do And we hate your whole crew So please don't stay in touch Fuck you, fuck you very, very much Cause your words don't translate And it's getting quite late So please don't stay in touch [Verse 2] Do you get, do you get a little kick Out of being small minded?You want to be like your father His approval you're after Well, that's not how you find it Do you, do you really enjoy Living a life that's so hateful?
This is the only time she has ever gotten a reaction she understands. But there is never again the broken thing inside, and never the bracelet. Her eyes water helplessly and everything becomes glare and indistinct dark shapes. I see you driving around town with the girl I Love And I'm like Fuck you! Her Ins are the usual, eyes ears nostrils mouth cunt ass. They breathe each other's breath — if it breathes; she cannot tell. She cannot tell whether this is the slime from its skin, the oil and sweat from hers, her exhaled breath, the lifeboat's air.