Tuesday August 8th 1:58 am

Riding into/crossing over. Darkness becoming heavier and a moon that keeps echoing the same word-image. Look: give your eyes pause to look: The location that is just below the jaw bone where the neck meets: that perfect spot to look. A city that at first i could not fathom, softens, begins to know me, pronounces my name. Could a city be the echo of a human being? I begin to understand density, human failure, mediocrity, baffling success, how people are able to swallow an immensity that produces panic. Smoking cigars on the patio as the sun goes down, soothing with smoke, burning back, burning into, I want to become fire. You say something and we are laughing.
Direction, choice, to disappear, to remain silent behind a... what? Blank, white, dense. Waving it like a rifle above you. Do you realize the nature of the threat? Can I claim your name? Curiousity, choice, doubt, mystery, the void, dancing away from the effects of causation. No? Yes?
He inhales the contents of the balloon, thus inhabits the vacuum. Smoking cigar.
Thus ask: Where am i in this scheme? What role do i play here? Fiction in mind, baring its thigh.
Walking walking in the sun. Walking in the moon. Light, dark and a simple request for both.

Rising, falling. Falling, falling into.

Sprezzatura.