A Wrinkle in the Mind
<p>Floating shapes, crystal mountains,</p>
<p>dark rolling clouds, and needles</p>
<p>popping out of the ground. The noise,</p>
<p>like when an oxygen mask</p>
<p>is pressed against your face. The noise,</p>
<p>like the thick wall of air conditioning</p>
<p>while up high in a plane. The noise,</p>
<p>like a hole swallowing</p>
<p>up trees, rocks, and twisted thorns.</p>
<p>— — — — —</p>
<p>A blackened dreamscape, everything</p>
<p>floating, and occasional rumbles,</p>
<p>and bursts of lightning or the birth</p>
<p>of stars, the rays just barely</p>
<p>breaking through the clouds.</p>
<p>It was as if my thoughts had turned</p>
<p>into a series of oil paintings.</p>
<p>I went deep into the rolling shapes.</p>
<p>I was exhausted but stuck</p>
<p>in relentless insomnia. I dove deeper</p>
<p>into my mind and found</p>
<p>a landscape dominated</p>
<p>by squiggly lines that were linked</p>
<p>to large, pulsating orbs. A highway of neurons</p>
<p>communicating with each other</p>
<p>and in tones I couldn’t discern.</p>
<p>I went to the doorway of one orb,</p>
<p>and a hand crawled out and grabbed me.</p>
<p><a href="https://thehubpublication.com/a-wrinkle-in-the-mind-f3bc6ccadb02">Read More</a></p>