Delirium

Heat. Cold.

At the center — a golden form. Melting. Holding. Around it — blue spines, cold and sharp. They pass through organic matter as a diagnosis passes through a symptom.

Gold is the temperature from within. Blue is what everything becomes on the outside. Where they meet — the transition: purple sinks into lava, lava becomes chrome, chrome becomes silence. Gold trumpets. Blue draws like a cello. Chrome is already beyond the threshold of hearing.

The body burns. Something inside crystallizes. Simultaneously.

Delirium passes. The witness remains.