• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 10
Image by


Dr Strauss, focuses his attention
onto a speck of my being that I, nor he, knew was there.
A superfluous image strikes the veins of the ceiling,
with its curvature seeking its optimal weight.
It holds currents through its velocity,
simmering through the curtains, as if daytime is hiding, peaking even,
injecting glycerin through outbreaks of coruscation.
the elderly doctor points, and nods the tip of his pen to the table-top.
He shimmies in his cracked leather chair,
and abbreviates the sign of an illumination,
Which sanctifies, and clasps with every breath.
Now, every surface of the world is now in existence,
and the small opening of the office door,
presented a foreign land,
full of riches,
but much to contemplate and fear.