Putting things on and taking things off I look downwards often listening to ripping tape soft fabric crunch of junk picked up off the floor and pocketed. Looking downwards my body shifts and shapes, malleable to my touch, but only so much. Where do those edges come from? How is it to sit in them, to hold them, to expand the space in between, to share them? 

Here I have held magic dreams of garbage fairies, cocoons filled to gooey bursting and pulpy peels that linger twisted. Here I layer the extravagance of drag and gender performance onto the loneliness of their aftermath, lingering in the space in between putting things on and taking things off. Edge along the bottomside as these things curl up. 

...and please pump!