I am the innocent and eager lamb that longs for the dark chambers of nightmare. Without me, you are safe but without heart. With me you walk at the edge of mortal cliffs, trembling with the fear of death and that which is worse than death, full of shivering, painful, convulsive life. I myself still shrink from the raw experience but I will bring you to the mouth of the Abyss with a gentle shift of my eyes. I have looked through the veil and I have returned with maps and instructions. I repeat them softly to myself at night, under candlelight, while my soft flesh sweats with heat. I know the way, I have seen the guardians that stand at the doors. My placement at the very gate of Twilight gives me the rarest of sights: the soft and infinite valley of the known world seen from the shadow of the dark unknown. I can not be here forever. But for now I bring the gift of the brink, of the exquisite vibrations at the breaking point of reason, of the hesitation that curls upon itself like my soft cheeks push up to swallow my aching eyes.