In whom do you confide?


While they migrate their hands into the position of the awkward turtle, I have been studying their reactions to the paralyzing ideals and commentary. While they have been averting their gaze and marauding the bait, I have been focusing in on the automatic articulations of their body’s clumsiness. A foul smite once and awhile may seem to be my only reward, however I find a consequence that does appeal. A certain pang of brutality tunes and refines a core and braces it further for the unseen other; a battered throat does not choke on stone soup, but uses the leverage to digest the thick roots for the desired nutrition.


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