Things are not always as murky or burly as they may seem. In fact, many of my layers are quite pleasant and light. Take the lizard who holds me while I sleep…I barely feel his tiny little arms, yet his touch is everywhere on my body. Sometimes I awake…and instinctively chew…purposeful when conjoined…apologetic when alone. If I regret…maybe he will return. I like it when he sleeps over, even if he resides only where I cannot see. Today, my human must ready himself for what lies beyond the confines of our tiny home. His shape is much different, past the spectrum of what is anatomically correct. He thrashes and kicks, tosses and churns. Survival is a messy proposition when your control is merely someone else’s possession. I feign disinterest, yet I leer at every stain. The sweat has begun to seep…like a rising tide swallowing up the last remains of a golden sand. Still I exist… my prince…to set thy spirit free. Will it be servitude or a smile? With my conveyance…they are one…always… between the webbing of the grasp. Someday the lizard will consume me, but for now, we dance the same. On the tips of my toes…I fill the narrative… for you…I carry less weight…and more acclaim.