dreams of form
posted
the moments are short, at least that's how they feel
a small couple of times, invoked thus far only in worlds i enter through rest, have those moments took shape
i look around and notice a setting devoid of an earth, of a world without atmosphere. a world made artificially
the walls glisten, yet the polish appears to be waning. it ought to be replaced soon, but perhaps more important jobs are to be done
down i peer, met with not skin but feathers, sensations of ruffling them creeping along my body, across some new form i have taken shape
i feel myself rise, perhaps on instinct, perhaps on surprise, and a delicate balancing act ensues. trying to stand on toes is quite difficult
yet i manage, and my mind seems to notice. the floor should be cold--this is space, after all--yet no tinge of chill meets my nerves
more i walk along, meeting with a few similar beings. in my mind i speak, but my ears hear chirps
i'm shown a sign with glyphs i've never seen before, yet with words i can perfectly read. a language given only a faux imitation of its beauty in the before life
only now does the reflection in the polish strike me. i guess poor eyesight can do that to a self-image
but the world gets stolen from me, as quickly as it was given, separated once again from a reality where i still felt like myself
in here, i guess i can imitate the feeling
it won't be the same, but it'll be close enough
and maybe one day can that form truly be me
or any other form, really
i'm not picky