That all is lost in a sentence, all that you must know, sticky feet, mouse.
Imagine the eggshell ghosts among the narrow statues in a line taut as a sacristy cat— all the unknowns. All watch as a saint in a stained glass window caught in the nameless sunrise is illuminated there. Strange, isn’t it? How feline his features! He looks to be tormenting rats he has trapped in aContinue reading “The Unknowns”
She knew the river was far too beautiful for her to swim in even before she started the race. The sun, it seemed, had changed the rain to steam. It was like a leaf as it prepares to die. How it turns color so beautifully, how it strains not only eyes, but lips and liver,Continue reading “On being the Tortoise in the Race”
…[T]he only way for monads to begin or end…is instantaneously. —Gottfried Leibnitz The cold sets her old teeth to chattering. That taste in her mouth is more formidable than she can ever know. It seems like a clam that has been stored in the side of her cheek, too sore to swallow. Each breath raspsContinue reading “Monadology”