“Our own body is in the world as the heart is in the organism: it keeps the visible spectacle constantly alive, it breathes life into it and sustains it inwardly, and with it forms a system.” -Merleau-Ponty, from Phenomenology of Perception, p. 235.
Warmth inside August rain, a living room open to the visible spectacle of rain. Warmth wants a book, its particular pleasure, made to be made, wants sentence more than plot. Floor-wood breathes in moisture and warps, ottoman-leather seems to want to come back to life, as an animal. The animals here sleep, soft burls, and the rain ceases inside of them. Without moisture I cannot see. Without daytime I cannot.
Warmth inside August rain, a living room open to the visible spectacle of rain. Warmth wants a book, its particular pleasure, made to be made, wants sentence more than plot. Floor-wood breathes in moisture and warps, ottoman-leather seems to want to come back to life, as an animal. The animals here sleep, soft burls, and the rain ceases inside of them. Without moisture I cannot see. Without daytime I cannot.
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