I can blame no one else for what you are about to experience.
When he whispered back from the mirror
The fool Obscenity Justice stood there listening in bandages,
smiling at his own desired brand of justice.
Even Death Nellie wanted ashes spread as proof of justice...but at what cost?
After so many personal losses Obscenity and Death decided to paint their totems calling it "dancing with angels in a carnalval night."
If truth be told, it will only come through fall leaves whispering through you, spring flower and fern calling out so that your pores even know.
No ghosts or apparitions to hold your hand. No shrunken idols with PhDs.
Only the electricity of loving touch.
As scary as subtle truth can be, it would never scar a child. No brethren would take out contracts.
It's different for Justice as it is for Nellie, guisers and graveyards, issuing bubbling froth, mirthy earth, even the sea whispers thru spray and gliders on the wind.
The crucifix tagged on the tomb time capsule hovers in frozen earth and stone issuing truth on the backs of hundreds of ants.
Do new generations plagiarize? The stones rattle in their earthen births and know nothing to be different. Same as a trilobite.
Will be no different than the battles fought in ancient Greece and Rome. I hear the shells in the desert resonating from the burned eyelids and parched throats of the desert fathers.
So it comes to this. Can you look into a mirror and hear the truth whether it involves justice? Can you look no matter what eyes stare back at you? Can you take a tube of ochre and draw a circle around the fool's head and laugh together?
There never was a box, a throne, a maze, only simple hovels and squares and triangles and circles.
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