i stepped out of her pink, fleshy vessel and stepped on rudimentary rock polished by that primordial air here long before the land and water. i was born INTO the promise of death. all of us are

i play in the stomach of the demons, the presence of who begun and can thus cease; i wade against what seemed to be nothingness, yet i still feel my size, my shape, my skin, causated by the presence or the very prospect of that elusive matter. i revel, ignorant, the unwitting fugitive of eden. unknowing was i that every swing of my arm seeked to free me from the hold of this god, this thing, this being