47%waxing winter-spring
It was only when Larae's eyes exploded that [the woman] became afraid
all for the wrong reasons. All too late.
Babies walking through the belly of the beast
babies walking through the belly of the beast.
They like it there?
They do not feel the Getting Digested
They mistake it for something else?
Moses was chosen to free slaves.
But he hit the rock; he thought his siblings would be happy when he killed the overseeer.
The overseer chose them; it is a joy to be [socketed], even when you [extend] malformed appetite.
Until the movement of your body is encoded; blackboxed from you.
[addiction; hijacked automism; justification and [reward flows]]
Keep your head down, build your [credit score]
Move your body; now do it
Be Good
Be good
BE GOOD. Be GOOD [eh-eh]
It's moving fast; An Legba cannot guide the babies.
Their Friends die next to them, and they do not see the blood.
Focus on the pretty watch; don't get distracted by the screaming.
Eating a plum, dark juice dripping from her chin;
It is fun to stomp on sand castles: the joy of popping a balloon.
Of being full of rare meat. Of [holding her down so she couldn't move]
The stickiness on your skin means you are Good; you are not the one being digested.
We are going to make it. We are going to make it.
Hold my hand and we can jump over it;
When you feel all is lost, I will keep you safe.
{IT IS LYING}
But It Is Hunger; fingers in your mouth;
Biting a living bean from its parent plant, still in the dirt.
It is soft touch and eye contact; dappled in sunlight;
It is the sound of silver coins and upper recievers;
It is your teeth tearing smoky lamb from its shank, smiling onlookers at the wedding.
It is a nine hour conversation and the voice of the clock.
It is hoarding [m-n] and hitting a rock.
It is swiping right; it is him holding your hair; it is them kneeling at your feet.
It is selling yourself for smoothies and focaccia.
It is binging and becoming the machine that binges; revolute joints guaranteeing you sit on the mountain when you die.
It is the children cooked under har sinai. It is what carves new rules for the {no-longer-slaves} who hunger to be socketed.
The rock could not have harmed moses; why would he hit it? He learned nothing.
It is okay to not be able to sate the thirst of babies; one shouldn't be hit for it.
But-
Fat figures, ankles in blood, admiring their high walls and constant singing;
Hearing stories of Larae, far away, screaming desperately in hunger:
"Why would he want cake? I don't even like cake."
~~~
She has already died.
Pi looks like 4
*until you look away at
**and see it for the dizzying thing
***that it is
To dance for her is to dance for a tardigrade
