having completed the final draft of her latest novel
yeila elhouzzy at long last pressed send
now her editor will pore over to occasionally with a guiding remark
with a stretch and sigh yeila stepped onto her amethyst sea garden..
the gorgeous waves of night so enticing the cloud fish lapped
and the mauve and silver-tinged sky glistened like gemstones
the four moons splashed up their activating rays
lime and obsidian ocean-yellow and grass-crimson..
she breathed in the tingling and loaded cool marine air
the heavenly-scented coriander orchids in full bloom
the parrot orangutans chirruping in the glades
the flying ziggurats zooming above the mangroves of rice noodles..
her lover handed her a bowl of snow pear wine
gently he massaged her shoulders and beckoned her back inside
on the frosted floating sheets they made love amid dark glitter light
and what a sleep they fell into as a pearlescent dawn arose..
her novel was a speculative fiction affair
set in a strange far away world so different from here
yes so different yet yes not so different after all
plenty for her readers to immerse themselves in and mull over..
her fictional world is a waring and divided one but not the same as here
not along lines of plasma group or octaves of dimensionality
not along lines of parallel reality mysticism or telepathic muscularity
not along lines of timeline catastrophism or moon beam energetics..
her editor flew up through the air-glass tube a week or so later
he enjoyed the premise of the novel and the speculative wit therein
but he had trouble believing in the divisions of that world
make their divisions less incredible and more realistic like here..
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