Lindsey Yeager
Fear of god. Oneself. Complexity. Simplicity. Nothing. Everything. Some things. Some change. No change. The past. The present. The future. Promises. The lack thereof. Absolutes. Impossibilities.
Fear none?
Sword in the stone, a hot red sky. It was always going to end up this way. Clouds of smog, rabbits flee, Excalibur. Three swords in the stone, a narrow escape - part of their design, they beg for mercy with no one to listen. The sword - who holds it, if anyone? Myself? The rabbits? Someone else? Nobody? Three swords in the heart, irremovable.
Hold close to me.
