At a crossroads,

where the devils make deals,

and gods meet to drink away eternities,

as the world beneath them ebbs and flows…

Spinning round, right round,

Beats pounding down.

Synth pops and bass drops,

Until the feel of our feet

Grinding ancient dances to modern beats,

Becomes the ritual of a thousand voices

Woven into Ouroboros dreams and shimmering skin…

Dear Love,

I want to start and end this letter

With only honest declarations

And thoughtful representations…