Trance. Part one.

ETA: pitched up AO3

Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter,
Robed in the long friends,
The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
Secret by the unmourning water
Of the riding Thames.
After the first death, there is no other.
--from "A Refusal to Mourn the Death (by Fire) of a Child in London" by Dylan Thomas

( When the Andromeda blew up, )

Confused yet? Good.