0.5

There is an ongoing topological dynamic of enfolding whereby in time matter pours into itself with a soft malleable voluptuousness of confection, marshmellowy and dimpled. This is the grey tunic of a dream, which when turned outward reveals the most lustrous and colorful of silks. Upon waking the sleeper cannot describe the swells of the red dots in her dream. She communicates by and large only boredom. For who would be able at one stroke to turn the lining of time to the outside?