postcards from elsewhere

always the representation, never the thing. never the thing, always the desire. never the desire, always the gap. never the gap, always the motion. you can’t hold the motion, you can’t stop the water. the river doesn’t progress, it descends. what doesn’t move doesn’t live. what doesn’t fear doesn’t feel. what doesn’t feel doesn’t risk. what doesn’t risk doesn’t know. what doesn’t know cannot move. we plunge into tomorrow without armour. it could be soft, it could be sharp, it could be cold. it could drown us. the cliff’s edge beckons, this way this way. we could sprout wings. we could turn to stone. the sun warms our backs. we love the heat but cannot stay.

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