The clock into which you stared as into a mother's face now seen as a time-factory under winter. This they do down at the flower factory over the bridge from the factory where cherries rumble from the cherry-making machinery.
Nothing is true everything is the case.
Paused at the edge of the tub turning away wanting to be seen. Morning apartment where the light has lost its yellow at the moment of the sign. Turns away wants to be seen. The train windows blurring past like movie frames run sideways starring our exhausted revolutionary sweetheart whose head cracks open to swallow the day. We have made the world flat once again.