A kind of dream (a waking dream): that writing was a scapel along the skin, opening it, and opening a body like a book. It was to be my own entrails that I read, but I was hollow; and the pages were like pieces of the night turning.
A kind of dream (a waking dream): that writing was a scapel along the skin, opening it, and opening a body like a book. It was to be my own entrails that I read, but I was hollow; and the pages were like pieces of the night turning.
Lars Iyer's Blog 