Asleep Again

We land at the burnt scar of an earlier model, where the hidden becomes the lesser part of what’s truly plotted. The skin warps to change flight characteristics; I was alarmingly aware of the reality coursing though the dream; I was in a netherworld, with trimmings, where individual sensations come mute compared to the intensity of their incorporation into a whole. The passage of time was plastic; one can jump forward as easily, as existentially, into the void where null-time rules. The details of the moment where searing were gorgeous, yet only as I zoomed in on them.