(S)kin(s)

[Environmental Science  &  Fiction] In the middle of the night Ms. 238 wakes up shivering. The yellow disk behind the naked mountains is posing for whoever is willing to disperse a minute of the tight schedule. Soil levitates beneath the Bubble, lonely sky above. The lamenting fingers of Ms. 238 are rippling around a bouffant...

Brand, my friend

Cold November evening. No one is near. I feel warm with Brand.

The open Cartography of body languages

Red eyes evaporate in margarita clouds pregnant with unknown dance moves. New worlds are born on the edges of the words bridged by shoe soles and the sounds of conversations with the floor.