Like soft, fluffy strips of unrolled paper, automated rustles that don't disturb sleep.
Like dream pavilions (the swaying of wheat sheaves, etc.) but left to themselves, to drip yawns.
Like affected games of grays, of rickety metronomes, of the warmth of sheets.
Like gymnopédies, exercises that seem like coils, lanterns of colored paper.
Like things that you don't know how to grasp, as intangible as they are, without edges or roughness.
Things like that.
Loading comments slowly
