Plans

“The ways collapsing under the futurity of sight, whole worlds bespoken and created, whole worlds bespoken and reduced. That I sit like some benighted medusa, teasing out the veins of possibility from my fractured head, tentacles of must and might and cannot be, reaching out to espalier the future. The anxiety of an imagined time, when time rests on the long-laid pediments of its own imagining…”

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