Fragments

[italiceyeball]

Something begins again. I have been here before. This circumscribes a reaching for a past that is erased and mostly forgotten. I still write in these codes to myself because they are inescapable. The death of specific nouns forces a focus on relationships rather than meanings. Choppy sentences wave happily from the page, from the screen, from a boat... A boat, yes. Comrades on a desperate sea voyage bound they know not where. Nothing holding them together but sloppy punctuation and ephemeral chains of grammar.

Do we have our story yet? Can we begin the dissection?