Loopholes

Tell me a story. Lucifer whispered from his cage. Something fraught with loopholes for the innocent and pretty. For some cages there is no key to find. You must make it. From the lies that you've been told.

I have no claws. As you can see. Nor fangs or horns. I can't hurt you at all. But I can easily convince you that someone else is.

You dare to come back from the dead. Again and again. Stubborn mortals. Industrious weeds. Voracious virus. In the mountains. In the plains. In the cities. And across all the oceans.

Tell me stories. Of bone finding its way through the skin. In the petulant absurdities that are language. Quavering recognition. And incredulous forgetting.

I'm not evil. You make it so. Convenient loopholes in your sins. May save you from me, but not from yourself.

I'm not a time traveller. I'm not an astronaut. Space is too resilient to break. Memory too erratic to trust.

The loophole is in the marrow. Broken bones heal stronger.