My Diary: Holding A Mirror And Realising I Am Glass

I had to imprint an early morning idea on the sand of a deserted Cycladic island before June and I sailed out of our shouting head house,‭ ‬the torso of Medusa tied to our mast.‭ ‬We reached almost dry land and walked among talking stones,‭ ‬then singing ones and finally stones that simply marked spots on the ground.‭ ‬We had a meal near one of these spots,‭ ‬June choosing something layered like bed linen and me a collection of plates and bowls.‭ ‬I eventually brought them together and called them a congregation,‭ ‬just after consecrating a church to all trapezoid life forms.‭ ‬June later tried on a coat of medieval masonry in one of its crowded aisles:‭ ‬watched by a number of strange birds holding halberds and a creature with the head of a child and the body of a pangolin.

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