Landscape May 28, 2014 12:25:24 PM – 12:27:56 PM

Desertion. Assertion. Write me into your lips. Grey. It is like that. In the morning I sit there, slowly, reading about sand, about the sand, the movements of the sand across itself.

Does that make sense? All around I could only pull myself together to read a few random lines. The table wobbles. The coffee I am drinking tastes like the innermost of my socks. Something opened up. Was it only the rain?