She and I share the same sense of this:
Oh, Boris, Boris! How well I know the other one [world]! From dreams, from the ambient air of dreams, from the density, the essentiality of dreams. And how little I know of this one, how much I dislike it, and how hurt I have been by it! But the other one -- just fancy! -- light, radiance, things illuminated quite differently, with your light and mine!~ from Letters: Summer 1926
More than once on this blog, I've tried to describe that ambience, density, and essentiality of dreams. The poet's words are perfect. Often I'm struck by how dreams are expressed with a peculiar depth and substance. A situational gravity. A surreal quiddity. A holistic thereness.
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