Ayelet Raziel: The Passenger III I gave my heart to wolves but prior to the ground the sun called me human. No, I'm a maniac on a divine path time traveling through wine stains screaming at shrouded shadows "Over my dead body!" like it's never been a possibility. But death has a kind face; the kind of face you buy a drink and share time with. I shared everything but innocent evasions and found Babylonian keys in caution. My dreams secreted secret shepherds in a stir of traffic signs that only failed to dissipate in a discordant chord of vacant melody. Deaf in the dark wood of error and misery, I armed myself against sanity to break futures from leashes that drag dead dogs down boulevards.
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