restless dots
Lines in the night, secuence of dots, meaningless dots that tell about nothing. Dots as sand counting the time to a person that is not already there.
The night is a black hole, let’s fill it with something.
intelligence among us
infinite running
upa tras perfluye lunó (Borges referencing Xul Solar)
trying to catch you
soft energy
night party
flowing rhythms
pop knots
behind you
breaking in pieces
Qhapaq 