Thursday, July 24, 2014

A small room inside a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.

Last night's dream was hard and black, but it softened. The hardness gave way to froth; the blackness, purple.

At froth's edge -- lavender. Beyond that, what I took to be light.

Or was it white?

Now I remember where I was.

I was in a friend's basement. I was fourteen-years-old and we were listening to this under a black light, which in fact shines purple.

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