An insane hunger had lunged me to these gates-- a hunger for love and wealth and peace, and most of all, a hunger for belonging. Panther-pawed, I had sneaked into the city. Yes, I came here as a scheming carnivore, ready to devour palaces and temples and dances and songs and women. Nimbly, I set my weary foot inside these famed walls.

But the city turned out to be a bigger beast.

It crouches amidst jasmine-smell and incense-smoke. It slithers under silk and marble and gold. It hisses on dark, sleep-filled nights.

It has a perfect camouflage--this beast of a city.

And yet, I see it, but not with my eyes.

I see it because I have invited its fangs, wooed its wraths.

I see it in its hatred of me.

I see its venom dribble through dusty streets, soiling cobblestones, staining lives, killing spirit and joy and health.

I hear its heavy foot plodding through lanes of silent stone gods.

It is time to drop all pretence.

I am no longer a kind visitor or a curious onlooker.

I am a small, vicious animal lying awake and bruised in the gurgling belly of this giant, invisible beast.