You will come away bruised. You will come away bruised but this will give you poetry.
Time is an illusion, say the scientists. It is molecular, it is bendable or liquid, it is soldered metal; or it is droplets of memory. I imagine it looks like mercury, silver and elusive...Burn all the clocks. I am free.
We're thinking, does life owe us anything. Did we get it wrong? And time is an animal, man. The years. Time is killing us it has us in its teeth.
Loving someone who hates themselves is a special kind of violence. A fight inside the bones. A war within the blood.
