Peters endless threads of rêve intermingle with his opposites yellow-shot eyes.
Both symptoms of their own declarations.
This is what my little circle of life is, a complex collection of matter powered by duality itself.
The pure and the evil. The hot and the cold.  The rough and the smooth. The highs and the lows. The bright and the dark. Itched with the threads of those who roam its endless corners, this life is duality itself. You need one to feel the other. I grasp at my thread bare stitches and squeeze to reassure myself. You will meet both types at the end of the spectrum. Some will ******* over and others will shake the very core of your existence.
You will give a part of yourself and you will take a part of them.
and you will move on fully reformed
or not at all.