Get crippled in this chaos. Almost amber, almost silver, almost gold, almost light. Sounds of air, airborne, then in an elevator, airborne again, but actually not. Back roads to far towns with the Internet with us all the way.
A mist that screens the world, dimly aglow. From an iPhone in an unmapped city. Near interiors, and nearly in them. Samples whirling upwards gently and incrementally, as though recharged.
Orgasm and ennui, frenzy and languor. Trace the phrase within yourself to hear how this hears you. A faint nowhereness that turns into everywhere:
