aegri somnia III

The frigid zephyr shrouds my dermis, unencumbered by the hypertension of my varicosity. Analogous to cinder-heated lumbar puncture needles, the cold caresses my physiognomy with the fervor of a parasitic strain, held dormant from fresh hosts for millennia. It intoxicates, birthing interstitial recidivist flashes of prickly pestering pain. A causalgia ensues, metastasizing and malignant, a clandestine crenation activated by soliloquy. Resilient, resistant, and recalcitrant.

I twitch.

Convulsive, epileptic seizures that quake my core, crawling and accumulating from within my viscera. Redundantly reminding me of my sense of touch, it is the tinitus that incessantly hijacks my neural cognition. How I long to vitiate the efficacy of this heliophobic spell with the glare of the ultraviolet. That only, by the action of dusk, by Hyperion’s stirring, can I vanquish this hex. But I cannot, and for the period syncretic with its pace of gestation, I am its captive.

Yet, without its lamenting molestation, I am greige and rancid. Without the sharp and frostbitten sepsis of its callous consorting, I am barren; uninspired and utterly ulterior to instinct and impetus. A protracted exposure railroads my tranquility, but in increments renders me rejuvenated, and anxious. I wail its presence, yet remain imperative by its insolent elixir. Anticipating the dissolution from the onset is the only paradigm and methodology by which I can surpass.

Ironic.

That day will not be arid, if night had nothing but frigid.

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Aegri Somnia - Lat. A sick man's dreams. From Horace, Ars Poetica, 7. Loosely, "troubled dreams".

The first aegri somnia is here.
The second aegri somnia is here.
Image from here.