Duality

Split.
 
My hands clench the Silk taught as I literally keep hold of Reality. Keep myself in Reality. I thought the storm had passed. It was only a precursor. Turmoil is overloading my perceptions. The Threads sever and hatchell before my eyes, then spin to the wrong Yarn. They are separate, never separated.
 
A Call resounds threatening to shatter my antennae.
 
I can do nothing.
 
In the midst a pocket where the Threads, the Tones, do not reach. Is it salvation? The eye of the storm? The cause of it all? I want to move Through to it if only to be rid of the Call. Would I find the Thread to come back? None are There to retrace.
 
No one can See. No one can Hear. No one would Hear if I screamed.
 
Do something!
 
Listen.
 
New Yarns interpose the Lattice. Split. Conjoined.
 
This is not a Call. Then what..? A Response.
 
My antennae bend, crack at the onslaught. Listen. Call back. Call… Call it to me. I cannot get lost if I am always Here.
 
The Demi Onion enshrouds me. I am Here. And Here. But it lets me See again with clarity.
 
I am safe.