Table - Dali

how easily this and all thoughts can disappear yet the sight lines are mapped out - that tells you something though my mind grapples and fails it's something ungraspable perhaps my hands hold up the table I see behind, beyond it could be me - using too much clay for the pot small scale but aware of my shadow let's keep it all quiet - held in place - just until it's made sense of as you know - balance can be upset holding things up lacks foundation we all fall down I know, let's not dwell there some pieces are only as good as their original form I'm all out of prayers was this, or me, ever assembled any better I'm forever too tired to find out or remember it's how we find ourselves that too late discovery with inquisition and reconfiguration - slivers can be made into whole creations if only we knew better luck next time