The surface of the ice
is like the aftermath of a stroke.
You know what is in there but you
can’t tell if it is still drinking.
The silence is terrible.
Through the frosted window
the revellers seem unaware of the hour.
It’s late. It is new years eve.
They are trapped in time
locked in
and I am locked in too,
outside.
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A small site created on the iPad, with things made on it.
Written in the digital notebook on the 23rd of December, 2010, but this image came together on
February 11th 2012.