By Daughter Erinna
In rainbow reverie I wandered the wide territories of Qud,
modulo the Moon Stair and the Tree of Life.
My dreamself knew to avoid the place,
where numbers go to die.
Something unseen there tightens to a point,
breaks time's abelian promise,
and urges crystal on to palisade her weeping gulf.
The artifacts of plant and time,
crust and fuzz with lossy compression,
doze in moonlit marble beds,
touched by august muzzles.
The past is unwritten as the future,
And what is left, broken and changed,
to be tended by the point Colossi and their swarm.
They'd erase me, too.
I'm mere rust on the vine's fronds,
