I haven't been able to itch my eyes since last Summer. There's too much in the air that I can't see. Bugs and particles that pour into my mouth every time it opens. I'm choking but sitting still, staring forward with a serious gaze, eyes in a fixed position.
The insects are dead but the particles can see! They saw you, and they came to get me! They're on a REAL LOYALTY CRUISE. I'm getting tired of apologizing. My eyes are bloodshot, I itched TOO HARD, a dragonfly flew into my cornea because it seemed warm, or like light. Now I can see what he has seen. It's a message, alright.
It tells me to Think About The Things That You Once Loved As A Child. I used to love dragonflies but now the nostalgia is ruined by the moment (again)! And its image is ruined with a vivid whoosh (body-hopping, or the light leaving someone's eye-- their soul reintegrating), landing right inside itself (me, inside the bug, who is inside itself, which is inside my cornea, then it's just me, so many depths that it sinks deeper than Earth, and the dust beneath that). It is always just an idea--they're so powerful. Everyone is on a pedestal and it isn't the worst lie. The dragonfly only tells me lies. It inserts false illusions (true, when you combine) into our shared head. Now I can see what he has seen.