like swimming in an oil slick, coated in the viscosity of every errant thought, unable to find purchase on the smooth cut stone of wonder

like diving into the fire itself, the sins of tomorrow ignite like fireflies dancing down every ganglia, frying like bacon spitting into the breeze

again

it’s like that, freezing in a volcano, burning on a glacier, sleeping on a bed of glass with barbed wire nestled into a pillow, it is all of that, but in a good way