Crystal CITY, white lines crossing

In the thick of the dream, there was a long run rearrangement of various crystals in a confident babel like tower. each floor an elaborate sized crystal of various density and colors. with every breath of sleep, the crystals found their new place, adjusting, aligning in a  pyramidal power. The rain came in reality and it suffused the dream with lines from some unknown text. swarming in, in an orderly manner, against the grain of the formations, touching each crystal, moving through it with white ink lines of words of power. the tower rose, mighty and sturdy. silence in the air, only the movements profound making it work according to cosmic law. 

Then  more purging of the fears in dreaming. Of sick mothers in bed in a church sacristy. Of arriving late and being judged by a woman-priest. of refusing me the food of Christ or Christ as food. Perhaps it was a sign for me to see through the entire ritual. To enact the operation as one of the priests. 

Posted via email from AFTERVOLTER PRESS

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