i have nothing to say
for nothing
that would be outside or inside me could not be expanded
nor placed into the frame of (my) context
exploded streams of energy as interfaces of human-kinds
that touch the edges of the body’s fragments in the loss
of heat the surfaces of life wounded into a burnt out
of the bodies as asylum enclosed the labyrinth of mourning
into the black echo of the tears
the i leaves behind
a nomad between the final limits coldness/life-heat/death
VALIE EXPORT, 1983