Haunting Shapes Coming Back Deranged

… and where the shift is made slash marks the spot …
William S. Burroughs

/ a land where the wind alone is there on ye silent smiling curses, controlling the poisoned seas, that mysterious sea lit not too far from him, & this grey island / mysterious barge & boats of them all & of everything that is nondescript clothes / we among the islands / journey to ye underworld & eyes of heaven were well known / from darkness, teaching ye art of brushing ye green grass of time & time & timeline, & there is a not so unseen man who sits in the vision / fairy favours, images of wooded hills to ye knowledge in childhood, the everyday waking world sightings flying as the cohorts of deities under ye dark green defaulting banker picked up by a reality he is contemplating / however he is there, ordinary & under ye sparse bushes like a huge truncheon through the park bench, afar in his drab grey flux of human shadow, ordinarily unseen & so perhaps came down upon through the land keeper of dark green portalling into another world / shades of the high bushes / fate / & memories, looking back on ye gaze of a child alters the time & invisibile man that sees again many doorways, doorkeeper of the wind, do really see him / it is as if her activity feeds her dream /

#Scrying Scraps