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March 3, 2013
Spider-lights scintillate our web, and the violence of the keeper's calm trembles in the fretted fingers of us tripping off skins that collect delights feeding fears to be digested mysteriously, completely, as the stretched web keeps its form as the changeling body it is, to be derived in the wholeness kept secret, a wholeness knitted to surprises we couldn't anticipate or prepare ourselves for; it simply is, as it becomes itself by the tangles inherent to the web's creation, for its the creation that arrives as it leaves, keeps as it gives away, questions as it answers, nothing less.