the cloaths onthe floor they have all come to life. blackbulbs mock tricksters, gate keepers, seemless worn and widowed.
i see you traped in a photograph you begin to pass inside jokes dreams and hopes to a ghost you were so sure was your reflection.
would you like to craw on out and maybe find our way. a thousand films play around the walls of the infermery never catching a sceene. i feel warm and taller.....