It revealed itself in a dream

The cube of infinite nostalgia

The three-inch square of reminiscence

As it's side touched my

Fingertips

I felt the infinities

Weaving a bout

Cozy warm thread s of nuances

And the idiot aspect of fondness's victims

They pushed at the metaphysical realm

Of remembrance

And the warm feeling

From the flawed yet beautiful cube

Some slaves describe as almost euphoric

I broke free from the spell

No longer clinging to these threads of nostalgia

Gliding along with infinity

Watching the threads fade

And the nuances die away