Ocean November 24, 2014 4:02:17 PM – 4:04:47 PM

In the horizon a white cloud whispered away the smallest details. You say something about the sun. I try to understand this coincidence: Can I write like that? They turn away from the outer mountains and return to the luminous houses, the noise and their own weird bodies. Take this morning, for instance: It is the wind blowing tunes through the rushes.

That we never really become a part of the world.