The one goeth to his neighbour because he seeketh himself, and the
other because he would fain lose himself. Your bad love to yourselves
maketh solitude a prison to you.
*
Worm begs.
*
Worm:
"
I've been searching for my Order for a long time.
I know I don't have chance without Trust.
Kiss me Muse, so that I might find Trust." Muse: "I can only kiss what is iridescent."