Conversation March 17, 2015 2:06:33 PM – 2:08:32 PM

The scratches. Impossible to get in there. I listened with my lips, let my lips write faraway countries into your wrists. Together we mapped the order of things lying down. When you touch me, when our bodies are quite close, we are part of each other. My sentences are crowded and lack the precise movements of days.

I had fallen out of a spotted sleep and into a deep melancholy and now I drove on through the sorrow of the landscape. The Town of Avedöre, three forgotten bars of a pop hit. The To