Unless you consider it attentively, you will see nothing more than repetitions of reluctant attempts to solicit its senses. Is this a child shooting hoops, rewinding a tune with much excitement? Well, look at me, I’ve grown; my hair longer, step quickened, letters prolonged. Should I post a message once again that reads only a hello, and wait for a reply that reads only a hi; only that, I’ll be thinking of a figure that shrunk to fit a child’s playsuit, a lock of hair that was cut to hide a regularity. Look at me, I’m all grown up; and is there perhaps a story that links the two?
by Valeria Alevra