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After Midnight, Outside Bridgeport

There are moments when this machine of degradation appears almost immaculate - like a grand weaving whose warps and wefts are so well interlaced as to construct an illusion that one must accept as real and inescapable. And yet it is not seamless. There are also moments when one finds softening in the body, a falling into something ancient, into a resonance which dissolves the architecture of that falsehood, and one recalls the truth that we are animals meant to be free. If there is one thing that I believe it is that our bodies possess a certain wisdom, a certain wholeness that we cannot forsake no matter the depth of our deception, and should we entrust ourselves to that design, should we remember to heed its call, we might remember where we came from. We might foresee where we are going.

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