The Ice King: 3 The Thought

I feel the ice melt under my skin, I sense us slip away in the rush of torrents, surging up, then drowning into the depths; my eyes closed, I heave into his brain.

Where there were colours there is now only green and blue and that purple and the sting of the white in flashes between: I bounce and tumble and dissolve…

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A concept narrative in the here & now about the where, the wherefore and forever. Also at EDENbyFREI.net

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