You lay for a day and three bodies rested over yours. You barely felt the pressure; nestled besides other bodies sharing the weight with you. You raised your head slightly at the fall of each, to see the tiredness overtake them as their souls’ journey forward was thwarted. They didn’t look at you, but lay down above and only raised their heads slightly with each body that fell upon them.
By week end the stars were blocked out and the sun glowed distantly through the layer of bodies on top of you. You felt crushed but the desire to breathe deeply had left you long ago. You took shallow tastes of lavender-scented air? The small pool of belief dried a little, leaving a murky, algal stain around its rim.
The press of bodies drew you closer into other purple worlds. Your skin pressed against their skin, you could feel the cohesive friction - the oils of your bodies a thin and sticky lubrication to slide with and cling against. With your skin you could make details out: head and hips, elbows and rib bones, toes, noses and feet. Your ears pushed against their skin, you could hear their beetroot hearts beating within.