I sailed around on the surface of everything. It is always this slow gaze. The fire. I drank short gulps of the tea, ate dry crispbread, butter and sesame seeds. I sailed across the sea, drifted across the sky. Incomprehensible sentences to dress up in. And another day:

A shy room, an intimate room. Notes. Descriptions. Everything behind everything. The light followed me sharply, and I drew on the language dancing in the inner landscapes. To swim in the flowing water like a foreign language, unaccustomed to the way it fits too tightly as if you were naked. The trees.