Compound Elements

Smaller than the plane tree in the alley smaller even than the oleander, small, small alone longing for each other we set out. The hollow wind very easily will erase our footprints. The wandering wave us on its fingertip will spin. The motionless soil in its fist will take us to the breaking apart of our parts behind the curtain of the secrets of the elements dark. Small, small all things make themselves out of us. We set out with fire with the boat’s house with poetry longing for each other we with all things ...