Let us enter this again. In the context of this paragraph,
we are hurtling backward through space, toward a small
opening: I press my hand to your lip and you bite. You bite
my spine. Ben his jawline was stellar. Ben his curlicue.
His cellphone iPhone. His and everyone’s iPhone, in my hand,
on my lap, at the mezzanine. The opera is going full speed.
The soprano arrives to tell Falstaff, to tell him. I fall
from a great height onto a woman’s head. It splits and I
become the split, standing later for a portrait. The hero
of the town walks alone at night, carrying in his eye a single
feather. He wears this feather in his eye as a kind of penance.
For his bravery many men will die for many years to come
Martine Syms, Incense, Sweaters, and Ice, 2017, 1:09:00
You are a human being at the club. Driving, texting. You are a nurse in Vegas and enjoyed it. Who are you? What your name is up in the bathroom? The black body routine in front of the mirror, the voice of Eartha Kitt. There’s no races, class, style, refinement, eye contact, elegance, and glamour can get you anywhere. About being an animal lover but also to hunt. In her living room, on TV, someone, a bus driver who saved someone. People eating around a body. Be more in touch with the body. The wind and body are no longer distinct. The body-mind look straight ahead when walking down the street. A voice can speak for herself. She can say no and doesn’t speak for others. How powerful people act? They erect. Powerless people make themselves small. It’s a good idea to try to come across as more powerful lol am I ever gonna see you again or just texts. You’re gonna cry when I’m gone / and it won’t be long. Since feelings are physiology I feel touched and I’m crying in the club. Keep in touch. How are people responding to you? As you change.