If on a winter’s nightyou flex your hands like this fist fern fist fern circulation or fortune, a frozen spoon under your pillow nearly silent like it was in the beginning soft glow from the neighborhood bar the sandwich board flattened by wind who can remember patience at a time like this laughter though strained by the craned necks to get a better look at country its shape and everything after despite being surrounded on most sides we’ve come a long way from water the shapeless, lapping thing that shapes us saves us swallows us whole
This ending is beautiful. The shapeless thing that shapes us. What a great turn of phase. Something felt so fatal about the flattened sandwich board. I loved the quiet that followed that image, in my head.
This ending is beautiful. The shapeless thing that shapes us. What a great turn of phase. Something felt so fatal about the flattened sandwich board. I loved the quiet that followed that image, in my head.
Always love a Calvino reference!