Ian 26

Ian,

 

The dragon of Adam uses the pregnancy of himself to split and form something new.  The pleasing of the earth is one of tearing off of scabs, to plant and form new inventions.  Severance is a name that means all the places we bleed from freely, in the split from us of our beliefs, into reality. 

 

I use his Severance to make children.  He uses it to create humanity within himself.  Adam is a man, Adam is all men, Adam is this man, Adam has this man inside him.  All men, grown from the stone of some single form of him, crept with the moss of my catalyst. 

 

The ideas of him become heavy, solid, too heavy to bear within him, dropping into some void and leaving there a shiny place, raw and thin I think he named Saul. 

 

I'm a hero for you, Evelyn.  I'm a junky for you, Evelyn.  I'm a wretch for you, Evelyn.  I'm a tyrant for you, Evelyn.  I'm a sadist for you, Evelyn.  I pick up his stone men, examine that which in them could be considered integral, or indispensable. 

 

The thin tower of Adam's Unsevered self is a spire, rough as your undusted clay, cobwebs clinging to it even now in a gossamer attempt to form something, invent something new, some new place to exist, in ourselves, and against. 

 

The wings of him, dry as paper and spiny with the dark scales of his inevitable regeneration, rustle like the leaves of paper sent to the floor of his lab, without conclusion, or reason.

 

Love,

Annik