Seaweed Hair, cracked lips, skin bright, face of moon, breasts of moons, eyes dark upturned. Teeth glistening, the two pointy ones looking sharp.
Ahoooooo. The obvious call as I’m crouched, grinning and bleeding, feral woman with spinning head.
The sheer exaltation sends me spiral into space, back down again, and now I’m rowing my wooden boat. I’m entrusted with sparkling, twinkling joy. Ixshel is near and calls to me.
I move as seaweed back to bed, floaty, glossy, silently…..back into sleep. My bedstead grows chickweed. My cat at my feet and we are traveling in space on our snackbed. Some of stellaria flowers laughing softly.
Keep dreaming, either rowing, or flying, or crouching. Keep in touch says Ixshel. There’s an orchestra and you are still only playing a few instruments.