… imagine future forms of writing and/as freedom.1
I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person now I was free. There was such a
glory over everything, the sun comes down like gold through the trees.2
Our bodies / Our most constant technology.
The Lover / The Aleph.
In/is another country. Antelimit of blue-green movement. Awful unending. Oceanic of
a shoulder. Muscle. Her perfect mouth before me before before before–always before
Today, however, it may be space more than time that hides consequences from us, the
‘making of geography’ more than the ‘making of history’ that provides the most
revealing tactical and theoretical world.3
Laid out in Bikini Bottoms.
A Confession: HOLYSHIT, Caitie. Clyde Woods makes me want to fuck so hard. My
friend nods. We mean it literally. Though we don’t imagine fucking him, or even each
A Documentary on Bauhaus.
The building house. Haus–building: interior walls rearrange / un-erase / disperse &
otherwise accumulate. In / near / under skin. The face of the 20th Century.
Toward a Corporeal Feminism.
I first encountered Grosz’s Volatile Bodies in undergrad. Inaccessible then / now, I
can’t get past page 9 without taking to the bed.
Our hands are entangled even when we are apart. I touch myself with my hand and
imagine the hand of my distant lover.4
1. Alexander Weheileye
2. Harriet Tubman
3. Edward W. Soja
4. Natalie Diaz
5. Rodney McMillian
6. Youmna Chlala
The Master’s Tools.
Rework themselves in secret. Even a very big or white or carceral house erases itself
over time to build anew. Sinew and bone-attracting/abstracting. The delicate veins.
One navigates forms and desire in conjunction with the history these forms entail.5
Excess. Still warm from the garden.
Body / object / space6
body / object / space / body object / body / space / objectspace.