home back

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a man holding a bouquet of lilies

 

The image is disturbed from the outset. All it does is wait around for us

to consume it. The auditorium is now empty. Notes rise. Days rise. I rise,

expecting more authenticity from the arbitrary deployment of echoes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 
 

 

   

 
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