In the darkness, ideas presented themselves like snowy white snakes




Slithering out of the brain




And onto the floor
They formed elaborate curls upon the blackest black ground




Spelling out discovery




And hissing out trepidation
I am cross-legged




On the floor
The snakes crawl




Round and round my limbs
As they twine gently




Ever upward
I become one of them




A creature of idea




A creature of no reality
I crawl




On my milky belly
Looking



For the next silver form



In the distance
I crawl



Into the darkness
In an instant, I become



A creature of consequence



A creature with no consequences
Blinding white



On the blackest black floor