If there is a fox and a chicken and a bag of corn, the solution is always to let them swallow each other.
The curious village curls inward when threatened. It isn’t real, but: a loose gear in the shadow of a corpse. We discover first how much takes precedent over thought - how it becomes thought - how I can see the wires pulsing beneath your wrists.
(Traveler, and you, a stream of binary coding set loose.)
What is most real is the signifier, the picture where the golden apple should be, the figure standing for flesh. In a tower a hidden girl, and then there was music. The tin princess doesn’t wake up till the third act. Consider the way the village moves. Consider a pile of matchsticks.