fever of peace (snowflake in the compost)

life is always fitting together. even when you are not contemplating it, it is reaching around to your roots and reabsorbing the whole. connecting itself and unearthing itself and burying you if you are moving too fast or too slow as compared to yourself and all the paths you use to walk forward and find yourself in the entire hot blizzard, you, you are a unique snowflake swallowed by a steaming mound of compost and at war even at peace, and as we grow and reach up, parts of us fall down and decay and separating the two is a line as easy to find as the one that splits night and day. organisms and viruses and bacteria constantly clamoring to drown you, to eat you alive, to burn you down. and then there’s you, warring right back. burning right back, cellular membrane transporting right back, leukocytes swarming to the attack, a double helix unzipping replication and lipid sorting triple stack. we are at peace even while we war. peace is winning. and peace is losing, too. and there are always rebels within the empire’s galleys, rowing the great ship forward while they make little flourishes with the oars with all the heart and hope in the world that together they can bring her that much closer to a new shore. even sailors on leave were born to fight. and we’re fine with killing, just gotta be the right ones. nobody’s gonna argue for peace except cyanide, and the breakdown of the chain, system shutting down cell by cell and very quickly, all is still. until. the bigger body turns toward you to get its fill. tongue of mold and bacteria and virus, lick your lifelong wound, absorb you back into the womb. there is no world free of murder and war and if for no other reason that given the entire equation, most human beings desire a properly confirmed, blessed, and ritualized kill—not peace. just like the germs in our belly and our guts. they war night and day, sprawled on the muddy slippery banks of our biology under the heat of a heartbeat, flowing gently down the acid stream, living only for their miniscule dream and dedicated to killing the right ones.