- Vol. 05
- Chapter 09
A Cassette Tape Has Two Sides
1. Stilted landscape: a pool of ink ringed by walls of mulberry silk and a burnished cliffside to repel the blade-laden breeze. Pluck hairs like guitar strings. Bleed in staccato. Sing a song of vanishing beneath a mask of greasepaint and highlight the eyes in green.
2. We press diamonds into coal, vomit chlorine across sequinned windowpanes, splatter ink on silk and sketch a portrait made of grass stains: a symphony of red and orange, wildfire hurtling through stiletto forests, translating leaves of lace to the language of ash. We become the breeze and our tongues are the blades