'The Accelerationists', Group Show at Projectspace Lokaal, Utrecht

as soon as the twilight screeches, frayed sooty velvet slides from side to side,

an ancient curtain falls silently shut,

light disappears into the depths on a thread of silver,

where there was nothing more to see

then, barely audible, glowing secrets and deep black matters creep into the endless room, 

rustling behind curtains, compressed and hidden,

in this depth a dripping shadow strings together hundreds of stories into a furious burning circle, 

over and over, each night

stories brewing at an imminent end, pink and innocent

a vacuum, dull, consumes from within,

now swells silently,

a hurricane of fire on a scorched plain, perfect silence

a low-slung front floats away, a dream about the end

once, when the night has passed, the curtain moves like a slow pendulum back to the left,

a blinding dawn vomits over a pale ravage

bodies with arms protecting the face

an innocent view rolls in, hopeful from afar, like a wave of glass