The Smell of Daytime

It's morning
I emerge from the first circle
where there is only me
dripping with ectoplasmic yolk.
.
The sunlight is low
reminding me loudly
through the window.
But I come out slow,
.
meeting with you,
the people of the symbol,
in light flashes and black kinks
halfway out of dreams.

Something beyond has life.
as slowly my sources of pain,
fragrance, touch.
I hear her.