I have returned to Paradise.
Paradise exists forever, living forever. It lies among all the worlds, interwoven with sheets of transparent paper. Life exists here all at once, and every world is reflected here.
Milky rivers flow alongside thick honey. Whether they are pus or milk is hard to tell here.
I walk beneath the fruit trees, their gray-white calcium branches weighed down by clusters of ripe, red fruits made of flesh and blood.
He watches as horses gallop past him. Tentacles flail from their four running legs, and with each whinny, their bodies, made of writhing flesh and eyeballs, bloom and flourish like petals.
A sea of colloid hangs in the sky, or perhaps it is the sky itself. Giant worms and wriggling flying fish crawl and swim through the blue sea.
It is raining now. Blue spheres dangle one by one from the heavenly sea, each one enclosing an embryo.
I find the One, the Creator of Heaven. It is an angel, a god, a fallacy.
It spreads its wings, woven from fungal threads, wing cases, membranes, feathers, leaves, and every form of life. It is woven from these things too.
I step forward and tell it I am taking my lamb back.
I want to show the child this world.
This will be its cradle.
