Long spoken in the father tongue these thoughts do not take root as I expected. Penetrating thought and sharp wit do not sit easily in this hesitant new world where thought lies open truth is liquid slash-proof inviting. Now that I have ceased to struggle here in the wunderworld of witches I fight the unfight to make myself connected cut to pieces by the (s)word I stitch together fragments of a piece de resistance hung askew I revel in the bringing-together and through tears laughing I savor the salty sting of survival. v.m.