daou

In noisy cerebral midnights came scattered vignettes, all distant and gauzy, and in her subconscious eye, She tried to make out the meanings. It was as if the one reelers that were playing behind her eyes were for a nano were reality, almost as if She could touch the face that was from that familiar place, attach a reason to the voice, something concrete, something so not like pretend...
and as her body begged for a toss-and-turn moment, the abstract wonderfulness of it all ran through her hands like watercolors on a page turned straight upright; and in the dark, She reveled in sleepy remembrance.