It all goes soft. Soft eyes technique of seeing that which cannot be seen by the rational mind. The tongue lolls about catching on fragments of words that once existed. It's all so nuanced, you see. We communicate in images, in symbols as tiny altars for the way we see the world around us shining back into ourselves. We used to believe that dreams were a form of communication from the Collective Unconscious. Now we see that dreams are the way our brains make sense of what is happening to us. The helix, double penetration, the axis flowing in both directions. The mind goes soft and doesn't care so much about the rigid concrete boundaries of properly formed language timeless place it doesn't matter anymore out here in the stars and nebulae of waking sleep and even the bullet points of breath are halted in their tracks and you listen to this underlying sing-song current as a lullaby and you go to sleep too and start talking to yourself in this same shimmering language of mood and gesture
joie joie