I saw her once in a dream. I was a boy. Sixteen maybe. Fucked but not contaminated. Guess that’s all perspective. I was scampering from sentries always keeping off the streets. 

We took to the hills, me and my peeps. Twelve of us. No banjos or tents. A dozen or so MREs. Meals Ready to Eat.

And one gun. And one bullet each. The world was not yet undone. If we had known, it would have been three.

In the dream, this is a dream kids, so I thought, so it was, rocks beneath my spine sand in my teeth from dinner, so we called it. A near death Squirrel and an engineered peach. And goddamn foliage.

But I descended here. And here was so much soft fog and luxurious light. I could never forget how, she smelled like summer. The way I remembered it. Enormous amounts of lotion on the banks of the Willamette. Dust and humid moss mist and a the sweet scent of my stolen whisky breath. We were torrid up in the woods, all running from one cave to the next, strung out on Rhomasil, thinking we were invincible. We were like animals in the Amazonian-like Forest Park. 

The sentries left us alone out there.

We were apprehensive to head out. The landscape of the world was becoming frightening, and what we thought was rational, quickly became irrational. (To include the presidential order to allow voting to be cast while “incorporated”, plugged into the complex.)(within the complex, you become a perfect avatar of your human self.) (you’re an interperatation of yourself)><(you are an elite interperatation of yourself. And you carry that knowledge and wisdom into the natural world. As goes with Polititians. But in these landscape, many of their memories and ideas and decisions they consider wisdom, are generated. Mock itenerary. 

Ivy was only evading a war. Invading soul was necessary. I understand that now.
I know because this night, I fell into a kind of deep green canopy of a sleep. Deeper in deeply into immaculate sleep we fell together into a kind of cavernous keep.

We were in a hazy irridescently lit room inside a kind of deep set cavern. Light glistened on the slick black cavern’s walls.

There was a kind of liquid elation in the air and I was hard like a monument. 

When she came to me, as though she emerged from smoke, she smiled. As though she knew me from the ground up and adored every scratch, she smiled. 

 She glided tightly, this panther stalked, softly striking. Nuanced.
Her stare electrical, sizzled. This spectacle of crystal light blasting sharp through blurred hues.

“I’ve experienced a spirit like you.”

…she seemed to say.

“What are you?” I asked. 

And the rest is another story.

One thought on “The Woods

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