(no subject)
on what the sky turns
space of time in the moment after one song and before the other, hearing the needle ride the dust in the record grooves.
space of blankness on the wall where the paper has peeled off and it is bared to the stone, where the cracks are plastered over.
space of eye behind the clear cornea, where it widens with the dark, how it shrinks for focusing in light and leaves a clean white where was once a brief film of iris.
space of ground inbetween our paces which we walk over yet never touch with the soles of our shoes, on which grows tufts of grass, sparse through cracks in the paving stones.
spaces long and thin by the motorway side, after the hard shoulder and inbetween the harrowing of the tarmac and the growing of arbitrary shrubbery on the greygreen banks.
space of air between coy lips, dialectic of exhalations, the strict attention of tongue to silence.
Space by the easternmost column of the public library where the dirt collects in the circular reems and ducts of the plinth, onto which a beggar pisses at night before sleeping on the library steps.
space of definition, the vessel for the unique, multiplicity of the mind duplicating and replicating the space that contains the unique, insubstantiating the interiority of exterior space.
space by the bending spine of supermarket trolleys, carless, in which a plastic bag awaits wind for movement.
space of wooden windowsill on which a girl sits and stares through her own reflection to watch the people in the street.
space of paper and printed ink on page 144 from which a rhythm of repitition and revolving cycle of stresses, shifts and symbols uncases a core of light in the awakening mind of a 17 year old boy.
space of subtle dark slightly beyond the flame of a candle lighted in the memory of a recently dead father; of no habitual light, hinting in the dark recesses of the nave of the shapes of the trussed vaults and domes and arcs, a free and formless heaven.
space beyond a height of thought, a protusion of worry, irreducible image of the beloved, ever unsighted and irredeemable to the ocular eye.
space of cloth at the ends of the fingers of gloves when worn by the small hands of children who cannot fill them.
space of life from when tears streak and burn upon fresh cheeks to when the moists of eyes dry up and the cheeks firm and form a hide of severity.
space of potentiality that lies on the flute of the perpetual tongue, where words unform and funnel to the peripherals of non-existence, and a chance at speaking up, speaking out and speaking to another, is forever forsaken.
space of time in the moment after one song and before the other, hearing the needle ride the dust in the record grooves.
space of blankness on the wall where the paper has peeled off and it is bared to the stone, where the cracks are plastered over.
space of eye behind the clear cornea, where it widens with the dark, how it shrinks for focusing in light and leaves a clean white where was once a brief film of iris.
space of ground inbetween our paces which we walk over yet never touch with the soles of our shoes, on which grows tufts of grass, sparse through cracks in the paving stones.
spaces long and thin by the motorway side, after the hard shoulder and inbetween the harrowing of the tarmac and the growing of arbitrary shrubbery on the greygreen banks.
space of air between coy lips, dialectic of exhalations, the strict attention of tongue to silence.
Space by the easternmost column of the public library where the dirt collects in the circular reems and ducts of the plinth, onto which a beggar pisses at night before sleeping on the library steps.
space of definition, the vessel for the unique, multiplicity of the mind duplicating and replicating the space that contains the unique, insubstantiating the interiority of exterior space.
space by the bending spine of supermarket trolleys, carless, in which a plastic bag awaits wind for movement.
space of wooden windowsill on which a girl sits and stares through her own reflection to watch the people in the street.
space of paper and printed ink on page 144 from which a rhythm of repitition and revolving cycle of stresses, shifts and symbols uncases a core of light in the awakening mind of a 17 year old boy.
space of subtle dark slightly beyond the flame of a candle lighted in the memory of a recently dead father; of no habitual light, hinting in the dark recesses of the nave of the shapes of the trussed vaults and domes and arcs, a free and formless heaven.
space beyond a height of thought, a protusion of worry, irreducible image of the beloved, ever unsighted and irredeemable to the ocular eye.
space of cloth at the ends of the fingers of gloves when worn by the small hands of children who cannot fill them.
space of life from when tears streak and burn upon fresh cheeks to when the moists of eyes dry up and the cheeks firm and form a hide of severity.
space of potentiality that lies on the flute of the perpetual tongue, where words unform and funnel to the peripherals of non-existence, and a chance at speaking up, speaking out and speaking to another, is forever forsaken.