Caught in a riptide, hallow pressures, energy currents drift before my eyes, the story plays on, light hanging down, she stretches her shoulders, her pointy shoes swivel on the floor.
Friends are near, experience builds trust. It’s absurdly charming, my rhythm is life. My mind is not real life. The nature of the mind is to think about life. Reality responds to what you think, but it is not responsible for self-deceptions.
Humans can be experts at self-deception,
With so much emotion inside this flesh.
Focus around the eyes and neck.
Solar flares blend and dissolve what’s left.