The habit of arriving later than the sea. The science of balance. In those sketches, the audible work of targets. Snagged in brightness, a concrete ball whose intensity is suspense. The lyrical landscape and brutal facts of life depart from different stations.
Isolated fires are radiant yet distressing.
As solid yet scattered as factories and glass, this alters your intentions in undesireable ways. The shyness of boxers as they face each other to fight, a beast that eats itself, the radical depth of your indifference, bird aggressively singing, sleep inside a sleeve. Desire descends the stairs in a burlesque fashion. In the embarrassed silence, you can hear the muffled sound of windows. Contiguous states shadowed by death, sex, hunger, and boredom.