The day felt like silk. Not the shiny, satiny silk, but the dull, super soft stuff that feels a bit like marshmellows when you touch it. Too soft for its strength, the juxtoposition makes me shudder like nails on a chalkboard and yet I cannot release it. The ball felt like velvet. Soft. Warm. Inviting. Complete.
I dream in motion. Sometimes I dream in e-motion. Electronic impulses that jump from nerve to nerve. I feel the way they rush up to the precipice, then jump, or fall, or cling until they are shaken off. I feel them swirling in the abyss. Floating. Fast and slow, all at once. Speed is nothing when there is no end.
True, I feel it during the day, too. My tongue running up behind my teeth is a journey. But it is in my dreams that I have a complete surrender to the motion of life. It is then that I feel like I have come into my own, and I am whole.
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