As he turned, unsure of weather he had leave to go, he blurted out to the only one who could hear him.
“I am the undevoted man of the unseen, half a being, dipped in Chrome and part of the machine. Wisdom leaves a tarnish, but I like the way it mutes the sun. I’m the man of light and chief of all undone. You cannot stop my march as I bumble past your life. I am not solid enough to hold, but I can still cut you like a knife. I am master of the inbetweeness and I shout “balance” in my mirror, come away or stay with me, I cant tell if I want you nearer.”
He said and then left.
The wise woman would say about men like him:
“Tread carful when you see this creature mired in his swamp. He is a storm of high mind and base desire moving towards impossible dreams and unheard of wants. Truths and lies boil in the same bubbles and so rapid do they rise, not even he knows which are his troubles. Tread carful.”