a movement. a quake in the feet. a rattle of the spine. it's upon me. flushed against the face and crawling like fingers to the back of my head. i enter the neitherworld as a frog prince with a wicked tongue. the trembling becomes a chatter and then a rumbling of an engine as my heart turns over. my arms drift with the wind, limp and carrying all the rage of the demon. ready. at rest.
terrible, terrible Ogun. triumphant Ogun. soft is the incarnation of his fury like the crack of a smile on a beast.
when i move in this state i'm the last to know. in a sudden motion my fist is in front of me before i can blink. before my body throws it. Ogun is a good reason not to fight. beyond respect of terms, beyond the self. Ogun tramples everything and gives me wings in places of fire. his presence is warm, sometimes kind hearted. he listens with that smile. that smile that lets you know the hammer is already in motion. in action he arrives with that speed because he acts in multiple places at once. it's a sneaking that allows the body to be thrown while relaxed. to strike as a missile while sleeping like a child. yes, Ogun is a good reason not to fight.
he respects Legba and because of that, leaves or arrives upon command. sometimes catching me by surprise but ... Ogun is a good reason not to fight.
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