Peak
Emi Kodama, Thomas Jouanjean
Pick up a pair of scissors
Snip out all the hard clumps that we have formed
Start with the best of intentions
A steady hand
Sharp edges
Pointed tips clipping precisely
But the strings only seem to multiply like worms
You shine a light
We hack away at your debris that has taken over the land
In the end
You have a pile of tatters
Unsalvageable
Seaweed washed up on the shore
But in the spaces that have been created swirls a breeze
Salty air that has travelled oceans to get here
A window has opened
The only view is of the sky