nearly daybreak and we just finished pouring our concrete (a weakass mix of: one part water to one part cement to one part agragate) into our silly needlessly complicated wood form. we're trying to go for a retro-sexy look: a curvy cement lap table that could pass for a tipsy version of the atari symbol. been indoors so long i started mistaking walls for night and the dusty crust of the ceiling for stars. made a wish on the fickling fluorescent studio lights: that i could poke open my skin and pour concrete into my veins, solidify my insides, and keep my organs pieced together no matter what.