Shape it, or someone else will. the words could have dripped from the ceiling wrapped in succulence. light spreads itself out across the sky, the clarity is a little condescending. taste and see, juice peeks over the creases in those red lips. it’s the truth in these words, hiding behind structures, anamorphic. Shape it, or someone else will. and, when, you, standing there, naked. in front of everyone, singing at the top of your lungs. singing in a different language. audibly inaudible. jumbled notations increasingly piercing the sky. crescendo. the shape begins to morph. and hands have made marks, deepening the legacy. hands, domestic & foreign. non-domesticated. square holes, round pegs—however the adage. decide what to be and go be it cuts through the black webbed sound net. so, then the lips opened, and the people (at once) understood.