Aug 22, 2017 · 1 min read

you think it’s going to fall apart and
just when you think it’s going to happen–
it
doesn’t.
upon listening to Glassworks while eating a watermelon,
juice from the fruit rolled down the palm of my hand,
over the curve of my wrist bone,
and plunged down my arm like a snail
the music forced awareness of this
deliciousness of the moment
feeling the drop of juice
gently travel my skin
as we go deeper into the work, Glass cuts
and crimson emerges.
we are pointed towards the layered repetition
fueling our very existence …
surprise! noise glitters the air around us in perfect
harmony
and we know we must take it all in now
for she will soon evolve.
