Oneirataxia

the dreams have returned—tenebrousness lurking and shifting in my periphery, twisting corridors and labyrinths, viscous black waters. sunless woods where you and I met after eons of journeying separately and alone—how could I begin to tell you all that I had seen and felt and done, all that had been done to me, the shedding of vestiges and exoskeletons until devolution left behind this sibylline form you behold before you now—the stifling weight of iron ages, memories, frost on the panes. and this ancient anger with its Maslovian heritage—everything else that came before too easy, primordial, so we climbed to the top of the pyramid only to uncover this frightful, impossible anger. exhumed violence. severed lines, collapsed shapes, slashed geometry, sinister splinters spiderwebbing through the dread—I cannot sleep and I cannot wake—

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