• I fully curve at the knees, so I carry closed doors on my back. Something always needs to be twisted for me to forget about the rifts I've carved into my centre, so I reduce everything to attempts without confession. Still, I thought something was opening up, and it kept me awake for months. Then all that waking fatigue turned into a junction for two pillars wrapping pasts around their waists. And once I saw it, I couldn’t stop seeing it. And now I lie as distance.
• 
  

• TO FIND AND FEED AND FORGET, TO BREED THE TARNISHING VIEW OF SOME LADEN HANDS AND THRUST THE CLAWS INTO PITS, LAY BROODING EARS TO REST, FASTEN ALL SPEEDY BREATH, FEUD NOT, DAMN ALL, AND WISH TO DROWN, BURY, AND NOT EMERGE A PLAIN BOULDER, DEVOID, FOR CONSECRATION, TO STAY, UNDER, BELOW HEFTY SOLES, TO STEADY FLUTTERS, CARRY WINTER, HOLD OUT FOR NOTHING. LOOSEN FINDINGS, COUNT FORSAKEN, TO BE DERIVED FROM DUST, AS ALL RESIDES IN CEMENTED PORES OF AN UPROOTED WHITE WALL, RAVENING EYES SENDING YES AND MORE TO PASSIVE VIEWS, TO HAVE ALL RUN THROUGH FISSURES AND NOTHING COLLECTING IN CUSPED PALMS. SHUT BLISS FROM LUNGS, HAVE ONLY REMAINS UNDER NAILS TO EAT, AND HAVE NOT A CALLING, OR FLESH OF FRESH SORT. AND ALL AND EVERYTHING FOR SEEMINGLY NOTHING, SHARE WITH ANY WHILE SACRIFICING UNDERSTANDING TO BROADEN REACH BUT MAINTAIN PATIENCE DESPITE, DESPITE, HOLD YOUR KNEES AND BE READY TO FALL OUT OF ACCEPTANCE, HEART CLOSE BUT NOT ENCLOSED IN PETRIFIED RIBS, STRAINED, STAND, EVEN WITH SHALLOW BREATH ATOP WHAT WAS. THE CURVING LANDSCAPE ASKS BULGING THOUGHT AND PRESENCE, KEEP PEACE IN BREATH IF NOT IN FORWARD MOTION STAND, STRAINED, EVEN IF FALLING YOU WILL LAND WITH YOUR SPINE THREADING THROUGH YOU, EVEN WITH YOUR BREATH ALL OUT AND EVEN HERE SO, ENCLOSED, OUT AND EMPTY.
  
  
• I believe that she would like to die in her sleep...protected in wounds of possibility / in a divided state / disguised as sweet forgiveness...reason doesn’t reach, neither can she / she extends her arm to existence / an attempt against transparency...everything human dies regardless, so will what’s hers if it is found in memories...everything is wrong...she counts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / and after that, for each attempt, there was no condition of time...always / she had hoped for courage / here / where, for every tepid piece of meat / armour can be created...some aren’t indifferent to which I they die under...she didn’t want to be that other one...she’s good only when she’s within herself...you couldn’t want any less...after straining the telephone wires / she became sensitive / to the lonely sound / which / in / a slow / fall / of verse reaches / deep into the ground and echoes behind / the one who nods and commands with an empty hand  / whirring and spinning: alone and only as so...she would lose if she were to stay thinned vertically, but branches don’t look good when suspended mid-air...all drawn lines can’t belong to her...the ceiling / found her / sooner than expected / and she even invited it to weave itself into the soft tissue / of her / small / body / while she searched for herself in boxes...knowing herself best, / she wouldn’t allow it, but / she would gladly let / herself go...what did she try to do?...to say it as it is / she would be left without needs, / but within her / there always existed a common need / to show up / in dispossession...she could have / walked / into any space / and find / a dozen advocates of the future.
  
  
• everything goes on forever and I would talk now regardless of where I were I tried to get away from the damn thing once and it never faded away the whole time I was there I never needed anyone before just me and the stories I know a good one that I never finished I never finished anything I have this fear of being like you I don't know if there is anything else what nonsense one says when one feels that a moment of intimacy allows one not to be careful with oneself they talk they don't say anything they laugh they are not happy I keep quiet I get angry at myself and I wonder why would I need this and immediately think how pointless it is that I am behaving like so and how I should be the same as them talk laugh about anything no matter what but I don't know how how to get out of this silence and I stay I stay and keep silent even more persistently I smile I can't help myself and I'm only speaking now these are the only moments in which I am speaking and I'm delighted with myself but I have to give up everything so as not to awaken their imagination and desires they stopped where no one would stop to look busy or thoughtful or smarter than the others how do they think this will play out how do they imagine that moment do they feel happiness I've been staying as I am for a while now they will surely have questions for me when I was born where I was born why I was born am I alive what schools did I graduate from what awards did I receive what awards did I not receive why or why not what do I do in my free time and so on nothing I think I stopped being active on stage a long time ago and that's all I can have they can't possibly get bored they devour themselves and then vomit again this future is the only thing that’s left