Wavy sheltered grid warp under bare feet.
There was one with tangled hair, he crouched in the corner, fingers splayed, spreading across the grid, wavy, sheltering, shrouding and tangling.
There was a disc that rotated, in its place, its paraphernalia, and it was empty then; the rays had left it empty but not silent.
Treading the lofty girders, slipping between the fingers…
True, there was a mesh to catch the bare feet.
The Gordian Knot, just like an onion.
Then we’re into the closet. We cannot see the grid in the dark, you or I.
Cannot feel the wavy between our toes.
#DailyCreatedOOM #WrittenOOM 2023/08/23