[Out From Sleep's Dewdark Corriders]
Out from sleep's dewdark corridors, still I write to you, am writing dreamshadow contortedly, doubled up from waking's pain. Pain that returns to my body as my body returns to light. pain returns in morning as light too returns to day, as seasons return, as Milton writes, so too does pain me to return.
Sunset on a winder like a splat: black tree shadow, orange bright brilliance.
In my blurred heart, I hold Réjane Magloire and Rose Marie Ramsey's words, last night a dj saved my life with a song.
I hold my hands over the heat generated by caesura's charge: sparking air rubbed on both sides by sound.