Ordered

I typed these words you read with your flesh—your flesh alone—in mind. Knowing not your form nor your secrets, hearing not your sweetest lies, I have replaced them with my own. The same skin and sinew that makes you shall also make the body of a new thought, an old scripture.

A person moves across the canvas as a brush, saying only the will of the creator. In every step, fate; in every breath, prophecy.