Category: Art
-
Day 10
I dreamt of Franko last night; we slipped together easy, sighing hard, and watched an old woman die dancing bold in the next room
-
My window at night, more
Slow moving, a partial dream unwinding in its own way, we slow down, we slow it down, make sure we see — look, here, now, it passes — open it, to understand, to isolate the exact point, and how, the smooth releasing shifts into jarred, frayed, jagged. We go in there, at that point, slow…
-
Holding still
My gift to you is that I stand still, regardless of how the world flips and turns, regardless of how rapidly the marbles slide from this side to that. I am here, in this chair, in this room, unmoved. My gift to you is that I am your mirror and the farther you pull away…
