More poetry from Elie Nine, the insect priestess from Shadowplay. Oh, I mean, spoilers, I guess she’s not been introduced yet. You’ll meet her soon! She's a profoundly weird person. Sometimes she feels like the clearest expression of me I've ever made - she speaks in the unfiltered voice of my brain, without any effort made to organize the thoughts to communicate with another person. It's weirdly restful writing her. I kind of get why Joyce wrote "Finnegan's Wake" after spending so long on Ulysses - he was exhausted, so he just opened up his brain and let the babble run out, unfiltered. If you're famous enough, they call it genius. I shall have to work on cobbling together a legacy to retroactively justify my endless incoherent blithering.

Check out the other 99 Sonnets