Like the covetous blanket that masks your body, from your shoulders to your toes, the navy-coloured sheet of restlessness that envelopes your dreaming state — I shall be your skin at twilight and shield you from further acts of sins and I shall do my very best to harbour your warm heart that holds very little degree of energy. Rest well and restore yourself for the upcoming aurora....
What lies at the heart of every living thing is not a fire, not warm breath, not a “spark of life.” It is information, words, instructions. If you want a metaphor, don’t think of fires and sparks and breath. Think, instead, of a billion discrete, digital characters carved in tablets of crystal.
this scorching spit of possibility laying beside her wound; this tiny, new and naked critter soaking with thrill and dripping with fascination to fly and to paint its heart with urgent smiles and an early future. who knows what potentiality and disappointment it will bring?