words[w|r]ing out as stance is stretched to spider-crouching, spirit-[sk]etched in steam-strain hiss. mark this, and make no mistake: the new breed of breath brings the law of the snake. it’s backed by the blade, the spearheaded spade, the rake, the knuckled knotted knockout stake in all the prey these hands can make of our cat-herder’s call for movements of lung. it’s sung thus: all drawn in while stepping open, pushing walls to limn the aura, up to down to [w]in what down’s about, then up and in again and out with o[ld|th]er sound, in|with the through to_ward where [s]oftened dawn abounds anew.

this dawn’s breeze is breath. it wakens from that death of sleep the buds went gently into with the night—and we, now finding form as full-fledged flowers, raise hungry heads from garden beds into the early summer’s early light.

it’s hustle we hunt as a fi[r]stflash affront flows side[wise|wide|wound] for_warding. the heat we’ve been hoarding is let loose, unmissed, as flurrying fivestep’s made one in the hiss. [s]u[r]prising surfeits of s[p]ur_facing sp[l]in[ter], and from hinterlands hie the hints of hopscotch; asymptotic and notched, nocked (as an arrow), plexipenetrating pulses pop strobesped (like sparrows).

with prun[educat]ed edges grown acute from obtuse, new use is leeched from the oldest of lines. claws and spines in snakespeedstrikes crack aside attacks, knuckles rake and tear the backups back; cobracrashslashes follow fast on their heels. the ridged reels rewind in a knuckling led over, tightest yet and lightning-set and sett[l]ing up the screwdriven turn of open[sw]ing sweeps: parting the cut rain, parting the seize, divining the deeps of fractangle defenses; where flesh meets this flourish, contrition commences. revisited ricochet-renders get tangled by texture and mottled by mark; stony and stark, what’s up goes down and crosses to ground as down turns up where less and less expected—all connected, in[ter]jected, every petal counted and collected and protected.

fangs aren’t enough, nor claws, nor halted hooves; matter moves, so must this mind unwind, uncoil, feint and flout and foil. the humer[adi]us has reach enough, as heels turn harbor, to scissor like a barber gone barbarian. no more the quailing antiquarian than quiet queen, questers ken what restless jesters mean; keep motive in your skin and you’ll always earn your grin. so dipped low and loaded and ready for fire, inconspicuous dropdash defenses conspire as radial reconnaissance increases in range. these things change. lower and lightly off-center lands the start[l]ing stance, hands held out in_vitation to dance with an aura on the order of an aurochs’ ordination; the s[l]ide-to-side connects in coordination. spiderstepped southwest-by-east, the rattle’s released; swinging round to T-square pause, the flare of flickerfists finds flaws in plain protection. such conduct can’t contain convection. it descends and extends and bends beats to the flank, banking deep and direct with spearpoints to spare.

from there, doubles of doubles (like film stripped to stutter) connect concentrations and clear out the clutter. triptychs of kicks climb from base to core to pinnacle, inimical to inter-fears, integrally in[tra]spired. whirling in kind comes the tighteningyre; its cousin the wheel carries wind to the wire. new now, another begins with a spin—but this time it ends with drill-driving straight in. launching skywards, sling-shot out from under battened hatches, stinging stitching stabs into the armor’s chink it catches. at last rejoined, the hands and feet and body all combine to trace a route as intricate as vine.

from root to leaf the structure’s firmly planted, finely placed; confusion’s been clarified, doubt’s been faced, and now the loops are linked and interlaced. those who slide up and strike from behind? they will learn the back has no dearth of defense, as a turn and a twist and a triplock rewind and repress and repel. two who fell found that edges can double [as] tensors to tell who’ll first take his time with the toll of the bell—and time’s short. try to court the idea of a single-step path from one t[w]o three by three: angles, heights, points :: centers, sights, joints. it’s an oscillation in isolation: up, down, up, thrown. pistons pummel, trip up and pin down; flexduplexed control connects each to his own.

wickerworkweaving makes being believing, forging forms of faith in florid wreath more than wraith. an orig[am]inary pattern finds a new iteration, reflecting cross-relations in the folds of its stations. a squared figure['s w]eight states the stance of this dance, as unstuck—in a sense—comes its core [con]sequence.

but steps can’t be stumpily stolid or static; erratic and impromptu’s the way of the day—though balanced in [b]order and not merely fickle. each strike’s like a sickle curving in to cut down. cue the cobra’s crown, his hood and hiss, his slither’s sting and venom’s kiss; we imitate this archetype in shadowboxed display, twisting and insisting to insinuate our say into the flowe’re now forging from angular moment[um], all seven senses centered on this scene as_cent per centum.

that turbulence twines twice to turn back twin geists—but spectres don’t suffice. it’s muscle we move, and the rustle that proves our talents calls for a cohort. consorting and s[h]ifting through sibilant drifting, we split the scene and flit from left to right, front to back, spinning silken strands to stall attacks. whistling wild, the serpent so riled is ready to open the door to its forefronted ph[r]ase, neither blunted by use nor stiff-set—indeed, sharpened and loosened its heat burns the haze from the clearing where mettles are met. (and here i’ve said snake, but all through the tale you could take out the scale and fill in the knowledge that nettle can net.)

steeled by florescence of this [fl]introduction, we’ll enter now into a deeper instruction. cats in the forest, birds on the wing, snakes in the garden—we’ve been all these things in steps and stages, conceptual cages keeping styles separated. now elevated, re-visions arise; recombinant and radical, we’ll take on the guise of manticore, sphynx, chimera and gryphon. we’ll riff on these myths, pulling out from their pith what exalts our in[ward]tuition.

thus of multiple mind, we’ll take what we find and fortify forms by addition, as our growth towards grace of function and face brings what’s flowered here to its fruition.

- Udaboa, the Scribe
Boabom North