An apology

Apologies, proud squids, cephalophods and sea creatures for the prolonged period of estrangement. I have been rolling by land (terra inCOGnito) most times, though infrequently by the flimsy hairstrings of my Armadillium vulgare body, the legs of a terrestrial crustacean (oh! to be a penguin, and supply zoom through waves!). My wanderings and wheelings have, however, not been free of squids and their close relatives the octopi. One appeared on my arm, black, blue, swirling white for half a day, though it slowly flaked off (amazing how skin is a material that can never be completely stained!) and eventually disappeared completely in the waters of Lake Michigan, perhaps gliding on its currents from Southern Michigan to Illinois, to a less sandy crowded shore. (Elliot had a similar tattoo, though part of her painted swirls did not wash off and sheltered a curlicue of her natural pallor from the sun, a swirling sunburn that returned with us to Illinois). Another squid appeared in a Michigan night, when the black night was literally set ablaze with the flaming effigy of a ship (we burners danced around it, fucking heathens, soaking the heat and smoke into our nostrils), and after the ship's skeleton had been burned to ashes all that remained was the light of glowsticks, stars, and a giant green squid, moving through the campsite and dancing in the air with the aid of fourteen hands. Another squid: different setting. White white walls, dusting dirt off of the chairs, "art" (Bukaka says that institutionalized art is shit HAHAHA, so excuse me for the quotation marks), and suddenly a mosaic! A SQUID of red and blue pebbles! She sits on my wall now.

Many squids for a short period. The spirit has remained. I plead with you, forgive me, baptize me with your ink.