32 Springfield
From bell-push to faucet
Think of the voices you are not hearing today
The discreet thuds of a dancer diligently rehearsing her routine, or something more malign. The player a marionette dangling by gossamer thread over the bathroom sink
Around a corner strung together memories of anonymous families illuminate an angle of the cellar. These films linger to be retrieved arbitrarily and relived again
Seascapes projected over rumpled bed sheets, whispered intimacies now lent profundity by an apt mis-en-scene
Dusk, and muslin layers shroud the here and now in a warm maternal embrace
Presence of something, allow to be alone and in
Alterations and amendments and adjustments, as if to ask is this this or rather something other? A backdrop for an event? A stage-set?
Black minimal arrangements break up a landing, lights beamed up against the ceiling
Sculpting in the garden and limbs stretched taut in the living room, legs intertwining
Allow it just this once to be, uniquely
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