You are here now,
dreaming with eyes open,
peeping through a glowing threshold.
The glaring world behind is transcranial,
striking your cones with a band of colours:
ebony, red, magenta____(name a colour, only one).

You peep through
to see a sacred space,
a world in mystic curves and pixels,
St. Martins perhaps;
you still don’t feel you’ve crossed
a threshold, a new world perhaps.

You see life turn dark in a click,
green in the next click
and fade into a man in Mackintosh.
You aren’t bemused by your new power.
You love how buttons could create a world.
You forget you’re in a different space,
you are hypnotized by fluorescence,
seeing life behind a glowing threshold,
living in a blend of two worlds.
you don’t feel it’s a dream,
the peerless opera of QWERTY
is just enough to keep you awake.

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