grief is precise in its expression but verbally numb. Mourning, the page becomes a fraud. Pretending to give surface to something that constantly neglects it, that per se means: heavy, burden or engraving.
A linguistic failure thus becomes a material process, a spatial transition. And the debris it produces: simultaneous sensations of screaming and muting. imprints found pages later, asking: can a word become a rupture? How long till it ends? depending on the thickness of the paper and the emphasis of the hand. echoing: what here is of weight? Is language bound to its recipient or to its speaker? When does writing become a non verbal gesture? Are these white flags? Or a body of language? Can you read me?
There is nothing on them said the copy lady. maybe with eyes closed.