Stone to dirt. Dirt to soil. Soil to roots. Roots to grass. As the corridor changed I slept, coiled into the flesh made prison, collapsed and broken in the dark; my bones wrapped around my bloodied flesh.
I felt you there, writhing beyond my consciousness like an eel slipping through oil. It was impossible. At the edges of me you were frayed, tattered and ragged. Your seams reached out to me and I felt you let yourself in from the dark. Violating just the barest edges of me.
You were always so warm.
When our eyes opened, the landscape had changed again. The claustrophobic darkness had given way to a vast expanse. An I watered grassland that stretched out as far as the eye could see, the sunless sky above our head twisted and spiraled in vibrant shades of burnt orange and a listless purple.
