Rooted deep deeper than hands can touch or eyes can see subtle, hairlike tendrils probe and cling the neural circuits twixt sand and sea as endorphin transmitters clasp barnacles and marine debris moving though layers of neurological waste tectonic plates of consciousness rumble: battered by sleeping memories the landmasses in my brain shove to and fro violently all in the course of a night all in the course of one dream each day how many strange realities are seen? |
Anya: | What's the point of this funky art? | |
Devani: | Does there need to be a point? | |
Anya: | I hope so. Udderwise dis seemz like a waste ah time. | |
Devani: | Dah same could B said ah life. |