Posture

Riding on the wind? No.. snaking through mud. The swamp and the sea carried me. I was searching for crabs to eat, though they make me sick. Allergies perhaps.. last time I was sick all night. But that was his offering, and if need be.. I will become a muddy sea snake.

Venom is not required. They are already dead. (And cooked, no less.) Still, the cats had a hard time with them, and I didn't want to be in the same room. Foaming at the mouth, like the days of old.. hatred turned restless turned that thing inside me I cannot trust to behave.

Properly.

Why does this association fall on me? The fog, the water, the mistrust.. all stemming from the same source. A figure crucified, a figure authoritative, a figure cruel. I love, I do.. but I cannot go.

Anywhere.

You see now? The maze of obstruction.. haunting you here, teasing you there.. waiting for a calm that will never come with unity. Selfish, I know.. the way of the world. The maze is only symbolism, is it not?

Envelope the rage. That was my answer.. lick the stamp, that is what it is there for.