the silverfish came back tonight nibbling at my pillow to take
the threads and pull them so apart that the pillow was not a
pillow but something else remember roman and deneuve the hands
the groping and the eyeball razored nah you never drifted there to that
world remember carter when for the third time he awakened with those
flights still undescended and those hushed sunset streets still untraversed
praying long and earnestly to the hidden gods of the dream that
brood capricious above the clouds on unknown kadath in the cold waste
where no man treads remember that no way cause those
never occurred to you i bet just me...
these fish are surely funny crawling lightly over my shoulder to
distract while others swarm the pillow transforming it into a
folded creature not a pillow thats for sure.
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