💾 Archived View for gemini.estradiol.cloud › ~rumblestrips › fragments › a-felting.gmi captured on 2024-09-29 at 00:28:14. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2024-07-08)
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burlap around legs and heat and, you can't find enough hot water here. there are four or five needles that are to be applied over, and over, and over, into an interlocking to gasp out a breathless not. a gust rails the lonesomeward towards the four or five needles. there is a patch at the base of your neck awaiting a signal. your hand on a stopwatch, hearing the clack of needles and the clack of relays.
pantograph rising into to contact, three, or four clacks: the shoe, felt and feeling, not on the bogie. stop looking down when i talk to you, you: oh, a double you — a mirror you, staring back at yourself. you put the needle into the mirror and it reaches the double you. you have three or four needles left and there are no longer any pages in your book of sorts. a needle to the chin finds its home yet you still commute the long way.
a hussle and a lye for her needle and your thimble. a thumb below your orbit tracing a path at grade. asevere and several series of papercuts on your palm weep for the approach release. a pause at the junction, a needle out the windle, gone for good. are there two or three left, she asks? your yellow blinks twice, but you can't recall how the fibers began to lock together. a whistle and an overheated bearing exhausted the future.
a hand inside the ceaseless stitching can feel and be felt. flanks bear the seas and ohs as you approach the manse. there is not enough space to fit more needles and our fibers are too tight and locked. one needle gets stuck in a shoe and another brakes the air of continuity. you swore there was one more and there must be a world in which you wooled. a fiber whistles and a patch at the base of your neck becomes unravelled.
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note: work in progress lastmod: 2024-07-02
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