oldy paper; and the scent of the Treasury’s dust and cloth had saturated his
hair。 As I let myself go and caressed his wounds; his cuts and swellings; he
groaned like a child; moving further and further away from death; and it was
then I understood I would bee even more attached to him。 Like a solemn
ship that gains speed as its sails swell with wind; our gradually quickening
lovemaking took us boldly into unfamiliar seas。
I could tell by the way he was able to navigate these waters; even on his
deathbed; that Black had plied these seas many times before with who knows
what manner of indecent women。 While I was confused as to whether the
forearm I kissed was my own or his; whether I was sucking my own finger or
an entire life; he stared out of one half…opened eye; nearly intoxicated by his
wounds and pleasure; checking where the world was taking him; and from
time to time; he would hold my head delicately in his hands; and stare at my
face astounded; now looking as if at a picture; now as if at a Mingerian whore。
At the peak of pleasure; he cried out like the legendary heroes cut clear in
half with a single stroke of the sword in fabled pictures that immortalized the
clash of Persian and Turanian armies; the fact that this cry could be heard
throughout the neighborhood frightened me。 Like a genuine master
miniaturist at the moment of greatest inspiration; holding his reed under the
direct guidance of Allah; yet still able to take into consideration the form and
position of the entire page; Black continued to direct our place in t