I have lost all faith but this. It will hold blind corridors, scratches and evidence of fumbling and stumbles into beasts become tall and obvious, when someone turns the lights back on. It will be a small weight hauling down that folded obfuscation. In a corner to the left of my eye I will see something other than that sucking whirligig nothing. When I finish it three bricks will fall and my right arm will push through into something else. When I finish it bones and shattered things will need to be swept away.
When it is done I will pile its pages on the floor and step from them to the next thing, the weight of my step compressing it into sighing perspective. I will nail it to my wall next to the other diminishing monumental things drying like flowers upside down and curious. The second one will rise with the yeast of the first.