August and Everything After

This morning I was visited by a soul friend, a man named August. We have known each other a few lifetimes, and we’ve left fingerprints along the way to find each other again. There are many ways in and many ways out. His passage, his portico was octostyle. And his beginning was Palatine. He brought me the story of Sentiatus. He brought me the 8th month. He brought me the lucky number eight. He brought me the dance with death. He brought me the crows. There are so many gifts in a 42. My year of 6.