Cerberus

All citizens beware:

the equator is a mouth.

Cerberus has been stationed there for

containment,

and containment is ongoing.

The spirit of obliteration is alive,

contamination latent upon proximity.

Do not approach the latitude of sharp,

rotted teeth,

or mistake pools of saliva at the corner of

each mouth,

warm, wet, and inviting ,

for interest, affection, or desire.

Three heads, and no head sleeps.

Three heads, and no head forgets a slight.

All of them talk at once,

softly, tenderly, harshly.

Gluttonous creature,

faithful to its hunger,

a bottomless belly,

and lustful eyes.

He paces and waits, hunting with layers

of charm, deception , induction of jealousy,

images, and words splitting the mind its

muddled divide.

Your voice,

once a vision, a muse, or a hymn becomes a

whisper cracking at the back of your throat.

Then it becomes silence,

with echoes of his own roaring like guttural

music.

Incineration protocols remain in effect.

Someone crossed the line.

Someone always crosses,

believing they’ll be the exception,

as if their beauty, their wit, their affluence , or

grace and compassion could fix a beast.

Exposure is irreversible,

and bodies pile up at the equator like discarded versions of themselves.

In Cerberus’s nostrils, in his eyes, in his teeth,

the dead smell like the living,

and the living smell like the dead.

Frequency contamination begins as a hum,

then a pressure behind your eyes,

then your own name backwards,

then nothing you can describe to yourself,

only that you’ve slowly chipped away ,

smelled like both death and life,

and then disappeared.

Compliance is required.

Distance is mandatory.

This is your only warning:

Cerberus does not read warnings.

The borders drawn by your trembling hands

are boundaries his leash can cross—

given the opportunity.

Previous advisories suggested negotiation.

This one suggests running,

or prayer,

or the power to stay on your side of the world,

where your name still belongs to you,

and you remember what your voice sounds like.

The equator is a mouth,

and it is open,

and it has been waiting for you specifically.

Do not answer when it calls you by name.