My companion has no clothes to speak of - no odours, no form, only shape from being born from flat ground - transparent in the round; an open guide that pulls you from the inside to a new plane not seen before - straight thro' any solid door; where is this place I've been escorted to? Encouraged and gently led a long way above my head seems familiar a a long time ago - the pace of life here is very slow, timeless airless, a pale hue - my Fair Isle pullover must be a clue; seem smaller now everyone taller just as ghostly friends dance It appears that I've been given a second chance