Prologue to a Dream on Drakensberg

Trust the sun (she says) her first rays when creation was young and God's window opened outward as a place of worship born to be breathtaken daylight imploring for companionship and bleeding into itself as it bleeds into the worshipper. She notices that her own taste in repeating patterns doesn’t mesh with the apparently similar patterns in Drakensberg they obey a different logic, and the friction between them generates a fascinatingly ambiguous color. Tinctured cathedral of time passing on its first layer of stairs...

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Written by

Carlo-C-Gomez

56 / M / The Exclusion Zone

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