The moss glows #63347
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The Grámosinn glows. A novel by Thor Vilhjálmsson.
She rose to her feet without letting go of him, and when his arm fell limp from her, she threw herself into his arms, and thrust her foot between his clenched knees, and thrust her thigh between his legs; and kissed him fiercely on the neck, without thinking that it would be noticed; and spread her kisses all over his face; and when she was about to kiss his eyelids, his eyes were open as if he were ready to look into secret places in dark caves, or crevices in a formidable rock, she touched his eyes gently with her tongue. She then tasted those clairvoyant or blind staring eyes of her beloved, while in her depths the silent cry that bore his name, and filled this great church, rang out; and it was so painful, so painful, - it must move God to walk out of the ranks of the chiefs, and leave them with powerless protests and cries of outrage and looks of jealousy, and come to pity them and forgive them, and allow them what was most sacred to them, whatever anyone said; whatever they said who were always outside him with a stubborn streak and icy speech, grumbling and flattery. She moved in this kiss to his mouth. But his lips were closed and cold, as if he had no will that she could awaken and cause. No will that she could take into her power and direct.
She rose to her feet without letting go of him, and when his arm fell limp from her, she threw herself into his arms, and thrust her foot between his clenched knees, and thrust her thigh between his legs; and kissed him fiercely on the neck, without thinking that it would be noticed; and spread her kisses all over his face; and when she was about to kiss his eyelids, his eyes were open as if he were ready to look into secret places in dark caves, or crevices in a formidable rock, she touched his eyes gently with her tongue. She then tasted those clairvoyant or blind staring eyes of her beloved, while in her depths the silent cry that bore his name, and filled this great church, rang out; and it was so painful, so painful, - it must move God to walk out of the ranks of the chiefs, and leave them with powerless protests and cries of outrage and looks of jealousy, and come to pity them and forgive them, and allow them what was most sacred to them, whatever anyone said; whatever they said who were always outside him with a stubborn streak and icy speech, grumbling and flattery. She moved in this kiss to his mouth. But his lips were closed and cold, as if he had no will that she could awaken and cause. No will that she could take into her power and direct.