nathanael.ink

there up within, is a crater which marks where I have been, where I have reached in with my own fist to displace my own land.there is an answer I suspect to suspiciously, that I could not bare to feel her leave with no affect.  what if just like that, in and out, people come and wave big fake hearts; what if just like that cardboard cutouts make kisses and faces and gestures to one another, all along we are unsuspecting; oh but woe, even now I am suspecting I am unsuspecting. and just like that I could take a chance on an image thick as the space between two sides of a single sheet of cardboard. where all the zig-zags keep it feeling thick, keep me thinking I can go deep. much deeper even. but in a flash my knife is through and I have plowed right onto more of what I have been coming away from, going unconsciously toward; if even it is just more air. there. there are some things you can’t fake.