Collection: Dream Menagerie Op. 1 Blooming Field

Sealed and spinning, the dream doesn't drift but loops. Tightly packed, bubble-wrapped, critter clusters rebound inside the self with no edge to breach. Globs thump into loops of light, rainbow slides roll backward, splashes recoil midair, and fold into new flashes. Crowded swirls of recycled urge, running hot with rhythm and no exit. Only spin. Only pulse. Only endless internal splash.