This woman, the witness, was looking through the glass, seeing the scene in a round face. She wore her hair differently and all in all she was {…}’s twin, specially rubbing the creases in the paper. She scoured the spines of books, labels of canned items, names stenciled to the underside of the furniture, left with the electronics, and still was unable to piece together a single clue.

At a turn of the street there was a door shaped with an axe. The door was as wide as a man’s two shoulders. Winter rains had ploughed wave-like furrows in the wood, in which the knots looked like open eyes. Muzzles of goats had worn away its hinges so that the door swung back with a bang like a gong. Thinking from cement and metal earth.


"Breathing Room" with Martin Soto Climent and Tim Kelly, Interstate Projects, Brooklyn, NY. 2016