tonight I am up packing and cleaning, and I will see tomorrow's morning dawn to an empty room, and I know it.
tomorrow I will go sleep in brooklyn, watch the sun set as I cross atlantic avenue. my landscape will once again be dotted with rooftops, vacant warehouses, the incessant thrumm of the overhead heater. I will say: here it is, space, I've regained this intangible thing, graspable intangible presence. here it is.