Through a Clearing in the Dreaming::Glimpse::
Mezzle head of unearthly fog. A witchcraft faelight-blue tree has sprouted up between the ribcage. Fog cloaks its roots, a tangle where it comes from. The sparkling moist earth blends indecipherably with the black galaxy of night. Leafy branches fall heavy with fir, these are my eyelids these days. Jade lash slashes. Icy fog whirls thickly around, and under the huge branched canopy I am warm. The whole scene moist with life in every fold, every dark corner. This treedream pushes a tall trunk, growing daily, and its branches fill my head, twist spindly arms out of my ears, I cough and catch an escaping leaf with my teeth. The dreaming swirls its fog through every spiral tendril of my mind and here it sits, pulses, shifts, and lives.
This is my state these days. Head of dreaming, alive in dark romance forest. I lay a sleeping cheek on the warm fur belly of some delicate antlered beast; wolf tongues licking my cheeks to wakefulness. By day I run with strange deerlings, my step seamlessly matching their own. I swing backwards from black storytime trapeeze trees. I bathe in blue midnight waters, singing the swans a lullaby by firefly light.
It's where I am when I'm talking to you, because being sucked into your desolation only makes the forest unfurl larger and more alive.
