secret interference

aaron boothby // poet living in montréal // 

(tracings one)

Mostly just to have something like a waypoint. A method of finding that is distinct within a cloud where each piece is distinct. Something like hopeless, though not quite (water all appears to be same but is not). "The ocean is another country." Like the desert is another country: a flat plain of sand, rocks and scrub brush can also become known. It's a matter of taking time. 

To put a hand against the image in the glass and listen for no answer. 

Things point tentatively toward other things without any intention. Like this, barely asking. An ask. An ask to take. A touch that keeps itself and a memory of breath. And then something else. And then something else.