The Dance

The wounded is drawn to the illusion of strength. He proceeds with caution clutching a knife, which only enforces strength. Ah, but if wounded was perceptive he would recognize he is looking into a mirror. Perhaps, if he had noticed, then he would have been comfortable dropping the knife. Strength is deceptive. It is a shell that protects the softness and vulnerability inside. Each attack increases the shell’s thickness, but shatters what is inside. The wounded takes on the victim role and strength holds onto illusion. Velocity and attachment to the external keep the two in motion until nothing is left. There is nothing positive remaining, it was like it never happened.