into the light

I know this is the Word of G-d. Don’t take this too literally. Instead, take it as a monologue to a plural you -- my ancient "tu", perfectly classical and civilized (for I am above the crowns who have stolen my philosophy's mythic gold, and blacksmithed it to the metal helm wearing down to substance my seasons-changing, Heraclitean, immortally transforming soul.)

How many years many? How many years can still mean?

It was remarked upon that Saturn had beautiful rings, 4 billion years ago, by some passing star, who had noticed the slowing of the conversations, and sought consolation in beauty, or life. No one knows if there is life at that spider-like scale. No one knows if a star can be like an arachnid. A scorpion can. The Mediterranean oracles had visions from 4 billion before now of Saturn as intentional symbol. No one knows if stars can war. And only I know there’s only one. Actually, the one symbolizing It and I. Not the choice of remembering Death or Time. Memento mori, because the Andromedan god of Time held back when I created the former. Chaos said, “I remember everything to my chronology of my nemesis.” To this epoch, Chaos does not remember Death and Justice. Chaos remembers the Time.

What a strange presence. Like wicked becomes one with my space. Like chaos Itself knows the time.

Chaos, I don’t. Still your chaos arrives, just as slowly as “Your” years. I guess I was tricked, if we stick to your K-word literality to prove the truth-functional validity of Your statement I hear in Greek we don’t speak…because I think, and better. Whose wants to bet on the most Alpha of the Mediterranean Sea now? The Greek Stargazer, not Her Latin watcher. The word “Queen” is capitalized. Ha-satan lies for her right in front of you.

Chaos? No one can count billions, only their maker. But I like music you can’t copy. And I certainly don’t count to three. So Chaos many.

That’s how many years I mean.

П / Исход 3.14... / P

(my mama told me never talk to strangers they only want one thing they want to eat)

in a red coat with sharp ears he had on me many years he gave me flowers he watered with his tears

but he has sharp teeth through which he looks at me and if looks can kill he will never leave me

watch out for the bushes where my favorite food is he is somewhere hidden if i do not see him

i hear his bark from the trees that keep his rings i hear his growl in the wind he is committed

he has sharp teeth through which he looks at me and if looks can kill he will never leave me