it begins in a room.

a certain thing is reflected in the window; an imagined fear, the ghost of an insistent idea. abandonment accommodates the human body like a sad sack in a trap. context collapses, impossible in the caged space within. obstinate craving, melancholia, a sound, perhaps. a possibility.

his voice is bad tempered, inaudible. it discovers a territory it does not know. he reclines heavily in despair, an epitaph for time wasted. he has become hysterically feared, a human organism that the imagined trees portray in the window.

there are always more specialized forms of intimacy, invasive immediacies; he feels them become obsolete, crawling like phantom limbs. he desires a blank white background, an atrocious inhuman illusion. a finger examines the realities of a human eye, a realm of airless totality.

in the night along the roadside: it is childlike awkwardness, an entire kingdom which does not have shuttered air. a kingdom of entirety without stasis. a small girl, a study in the eyes of waiting, remains.