{ a dream in 5 eras }

oblique nevertheless she went about her business as if unseen and in a maze, in amazement that anyone could possible read what she wrote, what she skinned, what she thought orthogonal enough to hide the pensive gnome. eons passed, until one fine dark day the wine-dark see and the golem’ sea approached each other swords drawn then sheathed in parlay, their elemental particulars given to each other and riven in rivulets of atoms and fleet mucosal streams, thirteen thousand of which made musical dreams of the figures passing flittingly hither thither and yon on the vestal scrim, kulintang gongs sounding deep and shallow, weep and wallowing through mime, time and the credulous whine of skeptical canids, risible cooing of corvids in the night air • rising, sealing, seething, stoking, sparking • thought and latent obscurations as if no one and everyone could parse, understand, ken. and then, one deep bright evening the word went out that, though she had taken the sere oracle’s hand and led…