Introductions suspended while we undergo this live exercise.
New and emerging.
Novel and multicrowned.
Coranated by all together, through multiple tiaras given by the calling of too many names.
Cut like fingernails into quick. Sandpaper rubbing and Indian burns.
Salves of salvation and balms as alms for the bottom.
People now pay per view the fights they saw for free in middle school halls.
These expansive Plains of Repetition.
Iron Lightning could take a walk and return with horses.
I come back with a bit of skin darkened by the lightness of sunshine.
“Then, where are you?”
“In your nightmares.”
“While I dream in heaven.”
“Thank your gods for your Haven, fool.”
“How dare you tell me what to do. How dare you presume to know of my gods.”
“Oh. Are they so extra sacred and unique?”
“No. But they are mine.”