"James Tiptree Jr. - Love is the Plan the Plan is Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tiptree James Jr)

truly like the fatclimbers? But at the same time it feels-oh, right! Oh, good!
Sweet is the Plan. I give myself up to seeking you, my new song longing Ooloo
and Looly rum-a-loo-oo-loo.
And you answered! You!.
So tiny you, hidden under a leaf! Shrilling Li! Li Lililee! Trilling,
thrilling-half-mocking, already imperious. Oh, how I whirl, crash, try to look
under all my feet, stop frozen in horror of squashing the Lilild Lee! Rocking,
longing, moaning Moggadeet.
And you came out, you did.
My adorable firemite, threatening ME!
When I see your littlest hunting claws upraised my whole gut melts, it
floods me. I am all tender jelly. Tender! Oh, tender-fierce like a Mother, I
think! Isn't that how a Mother feels? My jaws are sluicing juice that isn't
hunger-juice-I am choking, with fear of frighting you or bruising your
tininess-I ache to grip and knead you, to eat you in one gulp, in a thousand
nibbles
Oh the power of red-the Old One said it! Now I feel my special hands, my
tender hands I always carry hidden-now they come swelling out, come pushing
toward my head! What? What?
 My secret hands begin to knead and roll the stuff that's dripping from
my jaws.
Ali, that arouses, you, too, my redling, doesn't it?
Yes, yes, I feel-torment-I feel your shy excitement! How your body
remembers even now our lovedawn, our very first moments of Moggadeet-Leely.
Before I knew You-Yourself, before you knew Me. It began then, my heartlet,
our love-knowing began in that very first instant when your Moggadeet stared
down at you like a monster bursting. I saw how new you were, how helpless!
Yes, even while I loomed over you marvellingeven while my secret hands
drew and spun your fate-,
, even then it came to me in pity that long ago, last year
when I was a child, I saw other little red ones among my brothers, before our
Mother drove them away. I was only a foolish baby then; I didn't understand. I
thought they'd grown strange and silly in their redness and Mother did well to
turn them out. Oh stupid Moggadeet!
But now I saw you, my flamelet-I understood! You were only that day cast
out by your Mother. Never had you felt the terrors of a night alone in the
world; you couldn't imagine that such a monster as Frim was hunting you. Oh my
ruby nestling, my baby red! Never, I vowed it, never would I leave you-and
have I not kept that vow? Never! I, Moggadeet, I would be your Mother.
Great is the Plan, but I was greater!
All I learned of hunting in my lonely year, to drift like the air, to
leap, to grip so delicately-all these learnings became for you! Not to bruise
the smallest portion of your bright body. Oh, yes! I captured you whole in all
your tiny perfection, though you sizzled and spat and fought me like the
sunspark you are. And then
And then
I began to-Oh, terror! Delight-shame! How can I speak such a beautiful
secret?-the Plan took me as a Mother guides her child and with my special
hands I began to