Remember when wave dashing came on the scene and
everyone spent weeks trying to master
depressing
buttons with feather touch
to become combatants swift as shadow and
potent as laser lights,
and I laughed
because
as in life
you can be faster than the flames of hell
taken to gasoline draws and
flashier than Jesus at a rave
with angels for glowsticks,
but you still have to enter my hit box
to touch me and
I can wait.
