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language distorts meaning. some say

it is harder not to speak. yesterday, i

listened to bells from the windows of

small hotels in paris, which today are

drowning in capitalism. but imagine:

icarus was more than a body breaking

the waves. a marriage is more than its

divorce contract; it is sixteen years of

summers on the sound, watching the

love fade out of her skin like a saint-

tropez tan. and when morning comes,

she is still asleep in your bed, so there

is no real betrayal. even in kolkata, a

child throws dishwater at his mother

in the street. you see a taxi passing by

through some reflection in a different

window. sudden movement — words

exchanged: this is new york, baby. yet

if a rowboat anchored in the harbour

last night, then it saw the waterfront

holding one eye wide open, only half-

asleep. and that is more than enough.