abandoned

"i vow to build abandoned buildings."

Abandoned buildings are empty buildings. They are free. They have no names. Their purpose is lost and so they haunt the city planners. Useless, they hum in the middle of the night, while we sleep our dreams of preparation for tomorrow. They hum dangerous songs, quickly forgotten. Evaporating like the faces we glance when we can peel off our succession of masks. We only hear their songs' terrifying echo. It almost wakes us up in the middle of the day. Where didn't it come from? Is it coming from nowhere?

Abandoned buildings don't exist. They are between purposes. They are empty spaces filled with nothing, shining the glow of weed greenery and insect infestation. Useless, their use becomes vast, mirroring this spontaneous opera of temporality. [a woman touches her neck] If we are patient enough to concentrate, we find they resemble our bodies.

Infinite shelf space.
No address.
A moon in every window.

Let the paint peel. Let the crack-seams grow. Give each thing your meticulous care.