u/AmiableOfTheTrinity

Another of those dreams…
The house I don’t live in but have before. The failed and strained relationships; those that have failed me - presences possessing rooms; doors.
I’m getting ready. I can’t find what I need. I can’t get the lights to work.
Everything simple is dramatically hard. I am late. We are later.
You are in the house, downstairs, seated.
At the beginning, acknowledged; greeted. With an affectionate head pat... As if you are someone else’s pet.
Pressures; duties - must, must be done. Looping through unpreparedness. But I have everything I need, somewhere.
Don’t I? Someone might know. Confident but unsure.
Woken, by the day’s demands.
The daydream of you before I rise, an encore in the cupboard from the bed, where I’m in control.
Or you are.
I can’t tell.
It doesn’t matter. It’s only us for a moment.

It’s not shaved nor sharp anymore, this precarious precipice landmarking the spot. The spots? Yes, looking down at the jagged clusterfuck that will certainly impale for any slip up down. Staring at the starry skies with no steps - just clouds beyond reach; beyond breach; a stale breeze of diminishing, disempowering, bluffing, or not. At the brink. Bellowing. I am this small, and you… are about the same size. Still a giant in my mind. Glowing somewhere on the other side.

Where, in the curved glass of time run out, is this place? The sandy summit engrained between toes. Jammed together by a dry but witless gravity; an unfunny, fateful force beyond the glass. Crazy laughs anyway. Madness! On the mountain top, turning itself inside out, readying for the upside down. Unassuredly.

Cackle whichly, Witchy Woman. For in this place I know not wherst rests thine curves. I have aged to the past; the forgotten; the inept. Dismembered, Miss Remembered. I lunge and pinch at the salted earth beneath my feet for my thoughts, then toss the seasoning over my shoulder as excess flavour. Digging ever deeper into my superstitions, having long lost my head in these hills.