TRACING THE CONTOURS OF YOUR HAND FROM ETERNITY TO ETERNITY.

i. The face of a story imprinting its edge on a pillowy surface. The mind and body of a story - lost, wandering through the ether. 

 A collection of stories, wading in the pool, washing each others' backs. All reflections of ghosts soften in the tide. 

 ii. The hopes of a shattered man, dissolving into thin air. The crippling calls of libido, strangling the artist. The body of a broken man, tired and plump; No more swollen ego, no more days than the last. A quiet resignation into life. A thousand. A million. 

 iii. No longer a beautiful flower, but a tangled weed standing before the snow, awaiting proper burial. 

 iv. A chain smoking, lazy alcoholic, A beaten artist, An over-primped woman, An old, rusted gun - Cookies for the children.

Written Oct 15, 2007