(no subject)

[greenstorm]

Dreams of a big iron ship that hid me, invisible, if I stand still within it. Dreams of a small group of people on it and I am a patient man, hiding over days, slowly more in sight as the shop accepts me. Dreams that near arrival I am revealed, and we prepare together for what comes next: down into tunnels underground. I step in second. I wake up. Clanging iron. Stillness and stillness and stillness. A weary adrenal system. Fragments of conversation that slowly reveal their speakers' characters but don't quite reveal why. Watching the longstanding intimacy of a small, tight working group from outside. Inhabiting small spaces, edges. Forcing indifferent acceptance with leverage. Stepping down into the tunnel after the leader, surprising everyone. Going into the soft dark.