In Jag Lever

I BECAME AWAKE.

I became awake, From a very dark place, a patchwork of fear, of poorly conceived ideas. With a blister of water, the mark of working hands, Ready to catch, or cut. The senses aligned, the animal urgency, and voices picked up, Flowing over the static, late, quiet.

I became awake. Fingers are open, eyes they are open, the firing if images, an orchestra of scribbles. The guts of an engine, the veins of a leaf, light onto paper, exposed. A filament in a bulb, up above or in the ground. Together we are magic, together we are dreaming, together we reach endlessly, …

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