Blue-chill YenAs far as the records show,As far as we know, she composed this humming-song above the spectra of the dawn-soaked sea,On a promontory,Leaning back against the chest of a lonely, mahogany-brick cottage. She spoke these words to the sentient silver lights dwelling in the ocean long below:(Her hair was tied,loosely, though.It swayed along with the waxing breeze.)She said, “I plucked this desire from the depths of everything diffused.Listen now, then do as you will — but listen with your heart open.You’ll hear.”(Her voice shone sincere.)“So,” (A heartbeat pause.)“Chase me back through linear progression,Back to the days before it began to cripple in ruin.Leave us all innocent,Leave us all ignorant — even me.”Her eyes closed, and her soul drew itself into a little globule.A quivering moment flicked by, but it was quiet still, and the girl knew her appetent blue-chill yen would go unanswered.“Likely.