“Here is the Line that I
had Meant to Write (in) for You:
During our first Voyage, it shall be a Non-Complimentary Subject that Greets
us: a Fold where the Body once was: a Veil, a Figure, a Judge; a Hand thrown
through the crisp Air; a Neck arcing never-more;
a Voice torn-through the Inside and
Flung, like a Rope, a Spark, a slim of Grass, over a rapid Sketch, in October,
in a City, on Earth.”
-Boris
Izsus 2000
