one must begin somey of sky outside t  inside. Sky. Noc. telescopic lens, zooms in on me as I lie in t of a summers day, not unlike trate of fles in from t, from time before my time in t  of grass, of geraniums, of slivered lemons. All ts bring back the world.)

    As I lie in tructed out of memory, I begin to perceive some element of paranoia in t kno I c of my clae. And so I ure; and rape, from tin, rapere, to seize by force. . . ts a curious pedantic bunny to  out from t udied Latin, once, t purpose I cant imagine. So ture and ts on making patterns, says t contemptuously; all t pretty floral ed up over chaos.

    t prepares carot Game, itution out of cropically, ured virginities.

    tique Persian carpet and rape me. And, to my amazement, a pattern emerges, alt is stylised as ture, preserved as an image, or an icon.

    I cannot tell you  inexpressible relief I greeted tisation, not of a memory, but of an inter-connection t made some sense in my pligo me. It o ttered promiscuously on to pick out my oo my  and feel to it. Or pull out my moto my os, whey belong.

    No jumped out of tograpo my e coac y for me t my  stopped momentarily, out of fear for my o. too, are rimmed  in y finger. te language of t kno slip to some o make sense of tinue to speak even if th is sealed up.

    to me oget speak at all, like te coace orderly ones, like t tell whs or no.

    And so I establisure to anniion: t a mout a face. After t ly silent.

    e elements into a grid