a note from the editor

In the beginning there were things.

Rocks, mountains, branches and leaves.

And then a child           breathing.

Along came the buzzing bees. And the child followed the bees and the bees led it to a door made of stone. The door was so
heavy that the child couldn’t open it.                                                                                          And so
the child decided to leave.

When one of the bees visited the child, the child lured it inside its mouth. And as it closed its mouth                                                                   the buzzing stopped. The bee tried to sting the child’s skin to get out. Unsuccessfully.

And so the bee decided to live for a while in the insides of the child’s body until a while became a day and the day became a night and they all became an ever.

                                                               (And die there forever.)

The child worked its hands
and used spit to make clay
and build vaults                      where it hid

                               a mountain, a branch, a leaf and a bee.



Detour the Look of Glass Lenses

Reunited, but Only for one is That Tragic