And this is where the external word takes its toll on the structure of everything. It does not take long, although his circumvention of destiny will: let us time it … start. ing. NOW!

Explosions! [of the choreographed sort]

Fanfare! [a clarion, a trumpet, a flag, and a stool. Kill the beast! Slay the dragon!]

Monsters&aliens&zombies! [come pouring out of the pinhole of our expectations]

They creep across the floor—they gnaw on the flesh of our thoughts.

—Again! A paradox!

—Who ordered the paradox?

—Um … excuse me, sir, but—ah … I believe that what you are holding is … um—an incarnation.

—Oh. Dear. My. You’re, you’re … quite right.

—Why?

Once his first foot falls softly upon the rock, we are at ??:??:?? until the time of his. Um. Something. Yet, when those last frail numerals flip into nonexistence—when they transform into the Zero, the pinnacle of oblivion, more so than the null: we do not speak of the absurdities of a 1/0, for we wish no nonsense within ourselves. We want fact! Pound! We want Truth! Pound! Pound! We want a bigger gavel! Pound! Pound! Pound! We want! Pound! Pound! Pound! Pound! Pound! Ugh, prime numbers are such a bore: barely holding any sort of significance within their unevenly divisible clutches. Ooh, we’re unique. Divide us not by anything but ourselves and the Unit, for we will be scattered amongst the Cartesian plane. Only by themselves and the Unit? Perhaps this is … this is … holiness? Yes! The others are mere pawns in the infinite set of mathematics. It is through the prime that we find Justice. Pythagoras! Plato!

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Memory fades&dissolves between:::

The heartofmysoul delivers—before me falls my feet—my stars&eyes; my heart my heart my—

Why do you call upon me like so?—

—Michael, Michael, wherefore art thou Michael?

Hahaha! I cry back

—Michael, do not deceive thyself! I will not call upon you if you do not hear my heart breaking for you—my aching bleeding/fucking/bleeding heart—pieces of my heart upon the ground have shewn me that the the the words that you have spoken are true! Do not leave! Do not grow weary! I am here! I am! &you are so f’n=mx+b! (beautiful::: beaut—

Haha! I cry back Haha! but she persists—

—You&me&me&you could be so…so true&beautiful&bright&right&you are the light of the world + the salt = me&you me&you—

The cold Darkness, heaviness descends upon my soul—

Ha! I cry Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

…like an orange coal of sulpher & hailfire. She! Her! My emptiness rings true like the tone of a thousand flames that are the hosts of theaven? theoven? theraven? Ask not from where I spring! Ask not my name, for I will not tell you. It is the sound of allofitputtogetherintoastringofyesesandnoses! You want the Tetragrammaton? I will give you the Infinitagrammaton! I am I! I am my Name! I am—

Yes, quickly, move on: there is too much, too much: history, nights of handheld walking from The Place and back for lung-stabbing pains and the moments of romantic vomit upon the well-seasoned air, yes God yes—she beat into my back yes God yes in looping palindromic exuberance! It is for me and I am for it. Inspiration o muse you shapeshifting goddess. Tar and paper and porcelain, bountiful liquid porcelain you came to me in the night dancing on my slumbering body with a wet kiss of teehee and the moon shone through my window stopping my heart for you to enter where you, you, you&me&me&you we found our misery: to hold the world in contempt while holding each other sweet Death sweet Victory where is thy sting?

Let’s go.

But there is more, so much more.

It will be the death of you.

Remember the cat?

The cat?

Yes. The cat.

Oh. Well—I do not care about the cat. I care about this. Here. Now. I care about my neurons, my enzymes. They speak to me directly. They are me and I am them. We are we and these thoughts are our thoughts. Thoughts of twisting decay and wintry failure. Thoughts of barren walls and barriers and banana cream filled cardboard. Thoughts of sightless nights groping toward anything something to comfort and to calm. Thoughts of blue-eyed Death, open armed watching them fall down down down into their graves just like that. Thoughts of white-backed women and shoulderblades like wings. Thoughts of yes and no and thoughts of the Form of All! I have seen it screaming my name in orgiastic fury. I have seen it weep fiery tears onto undulating archaic fabric. I have seen it naked and cold and shivering in fear of the outside world—outside, the collisions, the pain of faith and truth and questions and the emptiness, the movement, the chaoticrushofarmsandlegsallcomingatyouatoncetoeateateat! I have seen it knife-edged and warm, smoke-blast filling the air with dreadful silence, yes silence, the frameless shot of I am! I am; therefore, I can be not. The negation. The horror. The beauty. The paradox.

Step.

The giants sweep underfoot—one, two, three, four,fivesix—ohIcan’tcountfastenough!

But here they come! Here they come! One by one! Desperately. Kicking up dirt onto my shoes that are now glowing blue. Blue? But my shoes always glow blue. They do? That they do, my boy—that they do…

Here I am. I am here. You cannot stop me because I am here. I have been here before. I have been here so many times, so many … so many … what what what … breaks before my fragile eyes of stonecoloredgracelikeabc,d.e..f…f…fu…

They sweep undermyfoot, not with grace, but with force, pummeling and driving and eating as they go—like this: THERE THEY GO! And I am thrown Upward (hahahahaha) into Darkness and never descend. I have ascended. I am transfigured—not yet not yet not yet not yet. I am—nonononono. Yesyesyesyesyes! Yes? Yes! Yesyes! Yesyesyesyesyes! Hahahahaha!

But where have they gone? To where do they go?

Enter the cave my dear friend, rest by the fire, there is nothing of which to be afraid. This is only Darkness crawling along the walls. It is only the devil feasting before your eyes.

The devil?

Yes, the devil.

Oh my! The flesh that dangles from the ceiling?

Yours.

When did he take it from me?

You never possessed it.

Haha. Possessed. Get it? Possessed?

Funny.

Can I have it back?

What? This? The flesh?

Can I? Can you give it back to me?

Hahaha.

Give it back. Give it back! GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK!! GIVE IT BACK!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!!!!

No.

And then the screaming falls into my lap and I belt it out like no one has ever heard before. They muffle my voice with a pillow and I will not stop, because I have seen it. The ceiling is collapsing. The room is shaking. The pillars are crumbling, and I am underneath the mass of existence that they support. White ribbon is strung across the sky. Others dance with spiders and scorpions. I dance with Darkness. It is a slow dance, where I put my head into the crook of its neck and it pats my back gently, slowly moving up and down—a little too far down as he lightly pats my as our feet move together making circles across the floor that is made of bodies as gray as the sky that glares down at our hovering selves so full of hatred and disdain…

I dance with Darkness.

Good for you.

No. You don’t get it. No. You don’t.

Yes.

Agony. &. Defeat. Like. Drops. Of—

I dance with Darkness. I dance. Or is it more like this—