"I'm not an anorexic, I just poo a lot"

[timpeltje]

Somewhere out in the barren urban desert, some music is played. It is a tune you recognise, we danced on it together on an endless night of touch.

Behind a barrier of concrete, that dance still exists.

Time and space can be easily bent so that all power lies in your hands; it only takes some practice (and a bottle of gin helps too). 

Beyond the music, there is silence, beyond the silence, there is light, as far as the eye can see. You can bathe in this endless stream of open light. It can take on any form or shape, I kid you not. 

The ants aren't moving, nor are the hedgehogs or the flying fish.
Somewhere the ant queen is carefully plotting her next move,
The hedgehog's spines are all we see when we look for them, high up in the trees,
And the flying fish... well, they just suffer brain damage from bumping their heads on the ice on top of the rivers and oceans they inhabit.

We carry their weight along while we push ourselves closer to each other. 

Look, it's snowing again. Good... it'll break the fall of all these collapsing houses.