project

too much dis-solution from too much, if the world is never fixed ill make the fixing smaller and smaller, a pupil width, gaze fixing on

moving on to smaller and smaller towns use the sluice to find the only seed to plant a city in the bathtub and we are sitting in the cracks of the pavements with 42 generations on the way in your leather gloves and my jade ring, and my danish socks i spent so much money on, that already have holes. where the flagpoles fallen down, “here that needs fixed”,
leather gloves, thimble ring, cataract, married in painless sightless world

out there there are persian rugs depicting the dreadful thats already happened but not me we are learning to fill the holes with darning, spun wool from our hair in the drain and fixing all the patches of worn and patches of neglect and patches of edge fixing up all the edges until the world is one whole beautiful ball of spun gold thread