mir v

dramt gauze

script sag

dome drop

When were we? The sky arc fell; there was no sky. There were no domes sung again, or dome musics they called it -- low clouds rolled the horizon. Geometric space was geometric event was becoming-geometric bodies. “Take this board, this face, this triangle, this rough in your hand, low drone of the curve.” What is this ghost triangle below a triangle?

The bodies bent over the tools, faintly sorting. The bodies found an opening in the tarp, beginning to materialize. The bodies pushed arcs into together. There was a body made into a shaping, but it was getting darker from the blue evening .

There is no dome, but there are plans for a dome. They sat at a table, like any revolutionaries, faced with a form though, this time. No reliving the face of the past. Nomad dome for collapse sound, for this time.

fleur v