Lately, the soreness has been beckoning like an unwanted houseguest who believes that hospitality exists intertwined with the present tense. I do not believe that I have aggravated a prior injury, but rather… I conclude that I have activated a previous engagement that has always been regrettably…cut short. Predetermined and hopefully forgotten, on the good days, I can almost feel myself gently sliding from ruffled pages too worn to bond with even the stickiest of a self manufactured adhesive. Ambling is as safe as the crown on the setting sun, even if tomorrow it will always awake feeling a tad wet. Still when I am sent for, I do not plan on keeping my alias waiting. He has a certain charm that way, slippery moves and a mashed whit spark a rooting interest in even the most neutral of oglers. Unfortunately, I am not Switzerland and I am not in control like those who spread out to celebrate. I would rather not stand for fear of nervous applause. Even in admiration, I have very few fans who can fold the distance.

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.