We were in the icy wastes of Antarctica
the crystalline lake of memory
and in those lonely days the world was nothing and the number we made gleamed brightly
like a star
a quasar
pulsing energy through space
and through time.
and through time.
Memories & dreams dancing together.
The love of the past tense in future time.
Never in the present.
The memories of dreams and memories in dreams.
A place of re-encounter as a childhood island on adult time:
a place where we belong.
The silence.
The silence.
What we are.
The stage where the soul can dance at her own pleasure.
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