The cave a mirror of itself,
we descended from darkness
through narrowness into light.
One of us bright, the other
shadowed; one led, one followed.
Every small sound, each murmur,
both muted and enormous,
distorted and echoing.
Near, bluegreen light. Farther? Dark.
My fingertips fade away
if I stretch my arm full length.
No walls anywhere. If there are,
they bend away as I lean in.
Ground shifts beneath me; colors
shift, scintillating, blooming.
I float down, facing the silt.
Exhaustion presses me down.
Water? Walls? Some kind of weight
holds me motionless and still.
There are moments like a dream,
dreams that drag down the moments
and drag them back up again
into a kind of waking,
before even eyes open.