We had a vision. There is much that remains unknown. In the meantime there are sticks puncturing foamy marshmallows hovering, on fire, as they crisp and then coagulate to make a sweet sandwich goo. Rub the dew from the mallow plant above your eyelids to assist in clearer vision, or for melancholy, crush the stems and move the paste from forehead to crown to nape. Marsh mallows aren’t sticks but roots, sinking into the ground like an old hand, succulent and pale pink on the top. Which part came first, which part came after? Which is rather where and where is many places flowing together: the same gigantic city over and over, sounds and straits, the right big toe of the English coast, a rocky valley with a flock of ancient monasteries, a rushing river with two identical consonants at its center. This is just the start and the afterwards is where we had already become a cooperative: serene, created and willed*.
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