those aberrations and oddnesses--
in deep dark recesses
they had waited for many years
until it was safe for them to return.
sometimes it takes a single moment,
a cataclysm, the hoot of a motorcycle horn or
a peaceful wave.
at other times, it is a slow resurgence of
squiggles, doodles and colour
from a world of straight lines and
very many boxes
(to that realm where boxes don't matter
and lines can just go fuck themselves).