writing// of ocean// of being

here.
feet planted at
your lapping rim.
my circular thoughts
are suddenly washed futile.

this expanse of water
unfathomable.
is frightening
in its vastness.
its roar
ceaselessly crumbling.

here.
tightly clenched
terms, phrases
are untethered.

the rim of the ocean
the rim of the text
teetering

wordlessness

Single day installation

perforated

the night is.

only.

a sort
of night
paper

only
carbon
eyes
holes
seeing you

I netted them under with a sudden phrase, I retrieved them from formlessness with words

net(s) of form
net
formlessness
diffuse

w

write
write
write
how words slipped away
collapsing
times cavern

I miss your voice
and using mine
I am crowned with grandma's oxidised silver
red lips
wearing expectation

I miss bearing frailty
amorphous

who is I
waiting
a self
who does not come

Language and a Subject destined to be in the World

Gradually as the sky whitened a dark line lay on the horizon dividing the sea from the sky and the grey cloth became barred with thick strokes moving, one after another, beneath the surface, following ach other, pursuing each other, perpetually.

-Virginia Woolf