In the dream I am visiting the Queen of Shadows. It is night, of course, as it always is in her cold marble palace. We are trying on clothes.
Black upon black upon black, in every conceivable material and hue: velvet in the deepest black of space, starred with diamonds; silk in shimmering opalescent folds gleaming with peacock colors; black lace intricate as the fabric of uneasy dreams, convoluted and occult; midnight leather soft as touch, heavy with the souls of animals.
The Queen of Shadows tosses me a high-necked, long-sleeved gown, buttoned from throat to ankle with thousands of tiny buttons: a priest's cassock, austere from the front,