Which comes first: The witch, or the need to hunt her? Her warlock, even in that title, threatens equally, gives cause for protective, quick destruction. You can help stop them. Must. They might come for you next, may weave you in their lies. I hope you’re joking, foolishly, when you ask which “they” I mean.

Love is dangerous, you know, friendship ever suspect. Truth is Janus-faced, fluid. We’ll need to take that magazine; there are revisions to an article. Is that a book under your pillow? Perhaps you have a lighter. No? Then allow me the deep pleasure, it’s orgasmic grimace hidden behind the Gothic mask of Duty.

The year and place overlap fully, the temperature and globe as well. You are here. Wherever you are is here: Present and Future. Past, unless you believe your memories more than what I tell you is best. One man’s dystopia, another’s heaven made flesh and blood. The labels scrawled in bold blocks on this Venn diagram don’t matter.  

You are here.