Danger as a texture.
Which appears first at the back of the mouth and I think about
swallowing, or the inability
to swallow it away. A dark alley of the body.
Or was it a sound, danger music, and does the texture take its
actual place in the dark
corridors of the ear.
Places that remain dark in the middle of any day. There are corridors,
and then there are
refrigerator shelves. Fear of the kitchen. A cooked body. How to
rid boxes of darkness.
How to wake up clean. How to rid a body of its darkness. In order
to step out. Into the
bright and shiny danger called day.