The crow will land on that petrified angel's head once more to witness such an act through the open window and once again the same black bird will not understand why people would do this but it is not of the crow to understand - No! The crow's purpose is to belong in the same loop of time to watch over and over again the same act of emotion swirling past the red curtains of that window into the face of the staring angel who wears the crow upon it's head.
Over and over again stuck in the loop of time this crow sees something not familiar to it. The clothes the young man wears. The clothes the young woman wears. Their faces, their eyes, their ears - their feet! - The pain! - Or was it pain?
No. It wasn't. But the crow has all the time it needs to figure out what the burst in the woman's face was as time before the cold angel stands in a movement of stillness and constance. The emotions will come together for the crow.
The beady yellow eyes once again prepared to witness this scene, purched humbled on the pertrified angel's head, the crow waited for it to begin.
And it did.
The woman, naked besides two pieces of clothing, fell into the canvas of the open window, between the two red curtains, she fell from the right of this picture, this motion picture of forever scenes, she fell onto the bed, a four post bed, larger than the hearts the two people had, or so the crow figured, are they hearts? Next time the crow will figure this out. The woman, pale and white, the perfecture of art in the canvas curtain wearing just two garments of brassiere and undergarment of the lower half, both pieces blood red as the curtains of the window and the sheet the crow spied as spewed on the four post bed.
The woman smiled at the crow - No! At the red curtain in the window! Or was it the man who came next onto the scene? A crow's eye cannot tell this very well but the crow can work this one out next time, next time the angel's stone head starts the scene once more for the crow to watch.
The man walked onto the scene from the edge of the canvas.
The clothes the man wore are much different to the woman, he does not need a brassiere to keep the chest in place but he needs a longer undergarment to cover the genetals of his person unlike the woman who has her's short. Black they were, the man's shorts that is, the crow sees black well as the crow sees black every night as he stand upon the stone angel's head under the full moon of the bright-lit night.
The crow sees no reason in having these clothes as the two removed them from each other, both of them keeping each other's touch a distant from the other's body as if the bodies were sacred and not to be touched until the garments were completely removed. They both took great care in removing each other's clothing, though there was not many pieces to remove. First the woman lent forward whilst sitting on the edge of the blood-red bed and slipped two thumbs down the side of the man's shorts, pressing the knuckles on the air around the man as she slowly let the weight of her pale arms drag the clothing down the mans legs. She needed assistance, so the crow thought. It would be difficult to manouver around the floor and foot of the the man. But the man seemed highly capable of removing his own garments as he lifted one leg to allow the woman to swing his shorts around and free from him and floor, they were cast behind the red curtains of the window as the crow saw as his neck went crooked to follow it's path before it makes it's exit scene.
The crow watched this repeat over and over again, first the man stood naked with his penis erect before the woman once again collapsed onto the crimson bed and allowed the man to slide his hands up then down the woman to remove her clothing. The brassiere much trickier it seems. The crow worked that out, for the man was clumsy with his fingers and took several clicks and 3 new expressions arising on his face before the final garment of the woman could be removed. Once gone both pieces took the same fate as the man's shorts and went off the painting behind those curtains.
Now it gets confusing for the crow, such a bird standing on it's perch of wisdom head, the angel of petrification there to seat the crow for the scene.
The woman, completely nude lying back on the bed with bosoms high and all limbs spread closed her eyes to prepare for a fate that looked grim - to the crow, anyway, as the crow will see the same act of the eyes later and once the scene repeats he will remember this for the next time she lies nude across the crimson bed.
The man, her man, passed the back of his hand across her check, down her neck and over her breast, down her side and over her thigh then back up to where the undergarment of the lower half hid. The man, one finger chosen with no thought, or was it with thought? Did the man think about this? It seemed like he did not, but that's what the crow thought and the crow never understands this next part. The chosen finger passed over the woman's vulva, she did not move or care that the man passed over this place that she so carefully hid with her clothing. After a pause she moved one arm up, bent near her head that still rested on the four-post bed and the man continued. He bent over, further, towards the woman's face and pressed his lips on her neck and down, over her breast, right over to her mid-torso place. The crow with his yellow eyes looks sideways on this as it showed no sign of reason or position in the picture that he saw through the never-ending curtained hole.
What confused the crow even more was that the shut eyes of the woman sqeezed together and dropped from the side of her right eye a tear of water and sadness. So much emotion is in the window that the woman cries in her confusion? No, she perfectly understands what is happening, the crow decides, and looks back through the open window.
This is where it happens, the crow sees something that holds in it's mind for life after life as it watches over the same scene.
The man rose until his lower half levelled with that of the woman's who still was lying on the large, red bed. He did something that the crow does not wish to see but the angel insists that the crow stands still before the window of the dark night. The man causes the woman a lot of pain as her teeth clentched and all her muscles went to her face, the man, holding her tensed-legs still on the bed, throws his lower half at the woman, pushing her body along the bed, she grips the red sheet in fear, or pain - or excitement? The crow does not know but wishes it to stop soon and end only to start when the scene begins again. Again and again. Again and again! The man did this, the woman in more and more pain, tears flowing freely out of her eyes just lets him continue in the crow's amazement.
Her body begins to rise with the movement of the man, she sits up straight and grips him tightly, throwing her head back with tears flung wildly, her hair, red, black or brown, the crow cannot see, it jolts backwards with her sudden movement!
And then. It ends.
The woman, spread on the bed in pain, looks at the man as he walks out of the picture, curtain frame, penis no-longer the thick proud organ of the man but tired and limp from the act. The crow looks once again, glad that part was over, watches to see what emotions are shown again. As the man walks out of sight the woman's head clicks back, looking straight up. Her sad face now smiling, mouth slightly open, breathing hard, her chest rises over and over again taking her breasts up and down also. The crow watches still. The angel statue now silent in the crow's mind prepares the scene to be shown once again. The crow has little time to catch any new feelings to be shown, the woman just lies there breathing, nude and shaking slightly.
The angel is ready, but the crow isn't, so the angel calmly shakes in it's petrified state - and the statue, cold from the dark night and worn from ages and time speaks words that the crow dreaded to hear again.
"You still don't get it? You silly little crow. Birds like you deserve lives like this, so ignorant on what this is about. You will sit on my head and watch the scene, this scene you saw through the window and red curtains, you will watch it once more."
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