it moves in lines, upon flat surfaces
we tried to catch it last week, but, no dice
‘that’s your department, isn’t it? take responsibility.’
true.
but, we were waiting for confirmation.
‘excuses aren’t relevant here,
moving forward is a precondition for itself,
so nothing will change until it’s properly addressed.’
the counter’s still pointing at「 green 」 though.
things should be safe for now
three months pass.
it multiplies in aggregates
motion seeps within still surfaces,
‘where were you last summer?’ like a lava lamp
oh, you know, out and about, it deforms
busy. buzzy. buzz. and,
‘oh. yeah. we can’t afford separates from itself
deficit here, can we? into self contained units
i hope everything’s okay.’ and
it’s fine. floats away.
…
‘that’s good’
…
‘we were thinking of leaving this place soon, anyway.’
…
fair enough.
no one’s
really expecting anything to be found, anyway.
the counter is pointing at 「 red 」 now, though
three months pass.
it breeds through rumpled cloth, and breaths out through solid objects.
colours float over matted patches, a ringing sound pierces out of iron bars.
- the counter no longer shows anything
people pass themselves at crossroads, half turning,
to speak, but carry on walking their separate ways
(it’s okay, none of us had anything to say, really)
- we expect a full report, you understand?
the spaces between take root. shadows flicker though the limelight
filter filter, pass over. embroid and disperse
- yes, of course. there’s no one left to read it, though.
the counter is pointing to 「 itself 」
huh.
must be broken
liar sickle pond mountain
