Let’s say less.
Favourably nothing at all.
Sit close
and see through the grassland that sways in vacant declaration.
Touch where it needs to be touched.
To create induction the invisibility must be placed.
Wait
wait for a magic that never comes.
But the waiting will be a desire
and the draft in between would become what we are in absence.
Scream
in despair and in joy.
The moments are too little,
the memories are far stretched.
The eyes
they dive into the suspension of a life.
The thread oscillates
the matter knocks
the music stabs…
The murder happens in a realm of complete humor.

Photograph: Katie McCormick