"See?",
Athena gestures at it.
Medusa shrugs, "Yeah,
I guess. So, how
do you feel?"
"I feel
like this Isle. Grey
and cold, with dark
damp stone, yet
a mossy heart; haven
in the Eye of a storm,
and a circling Sea.
You see the record.
I see every second
I moved through to make it.
I see the memories
that rose, and the music
I chose to listen
to, the books I allowed
to fill my ears,
or the silence I saught
to keep. I see attention
to movement. I see a safety
and a pain, that is
the return to Sea
again. I see a letting
go, and contemplating return.
I see the Mist, that must
encapsulate the Isle.
I see Change, constantly."
Medusa breathes in,
and pedals the beat,
"I asked you,
how you feel,
Athena."
"You are looking at One
Time I have felt
a Way, expressed
in a language more
genuine than any I have
found yet. Why speak
more, and continue
to diminish it?
The Walker will not
have my words, When
they bond with it.
The labyrinth belongs,
to her, not me.
If she hears my whispers
on the shore, then we are
tickled, by Destiny.
From Here, on
out, the web weaves
beyond what I
perceive."