Water
Dr. Yew says I am mistaken in supposing it has to do with breath. The issue is water. Not too much, not too little. Too much even worse than too little.
Dr. Yew says I am mistaken in supposing it has to do with breath. The issue is water. Not too much, not too little. Too much even worse than too little.
No place to linger, here, under the gaze of blank windows. No fish live in that pool. Nothing grows that is not planned. A scene from Bergman, or Tati, or Alain Resnais.
Walks become botanising expeditions to an internal litany of names. Heal-all, toad flax, cranesbill; yarrow, tansy; a rare moth mullein, the ubiquitous birdsfoot trefoil. When a name escapes, the thing has escaped and the world is lessened until the name is recalled, rehearsed, fixed again in place.