The ruined surfaces

The ruined surfaces of ruinous things swim in various shades and hues of night light bouncing pale green to deep opaque sea and dried grass to gaseous orange and back on breezes. Fingerprints, strands of hair, dried fluid stains, surface deformations and deposits ride the passage of tone. They remain when the effects of the light alter or disappear. In darkness these blemishes recede to point outward to whence the shining light arrived. The periodic evacuation of the light seals your dark chasm. Beyond the mouth of the alcove passing bodies project shadows, blinds or baffles are engaged, your eyes shut.

Before the light returns, out of the dim emerge the edges of objects and imperfections drawin in rising moonlight, pulling with them the high waters over your cheek in the sand, flowing in from tidal canals to submerge you where you settle, until the buoyant objects you clutch wrestle you through the depths. Where you had struggled not to sink you now cast away bits of the world you reached to only to sit for a moment more in the dark beyond yourself and you rise faster on the tide until you sink deposited on a bed of silt. Sleep across the causal chains. Their geometric simplicity is crushing. Moments make other moments. Moments and moments and moments make things. Moments are made of things affecting things. The chain is indelible and explicit. In the courtyard, around the corner, your breath falls and awakens a chain that leads back to your face.