Clarice awakes,
but her dream abides.
Don’t be offended when she speaks pleasantries,
or not at all.
What you might hear is only a placeholder
for a short story of ten thousand pages.
She’s seen a distant horizon, but can’t get there.
Knows the true names of our colours,
and how to ask questions of God.
In the saga of her sleep,
charging. Unresponsive.
Stories, poetry, narratives of true experience, and guests who have moved me.
