a surreal literary dreamscape
"Every catalogue is a fiction; every index, a dream of order."
"The pages unfold not left to right but inward, each word a corridor leading to a room that contains another book entirely."
"In the reading room, time flows backwards through the binding. Sentences unspool into their component letters, which scatter like seeds."
"What the reader finds is not meaning but the ghost of meaning—a shimmering residue left by all the eyes that came before."
This volume was composed in the spring of no particular year,
set in Cormorant Garamond with marginalia in IBM Plex Mono,
printed on light that dissolves upon reading,
bound in the persistence of data.
haru.club
MMXXVI